A Twisted Game
by Kiisu1L40
Summary: An old foe returns to torment and test Beckett's team and they're caught in the middle of a game they can't afford to lose.
1. A Bad Moon Rising

_Hello there and welcome! I've been working on this story off and on since May and now that summer is all but technically over and the new season is about to start (yeah!) I figured it was time to get this show on the road, so to speak. _

_I have only the vaguest of vague knowledge of the upcoming season so there are NO SPOILERS here. This takes place after the finale but those events aren't really the main focus of this story (once you get beyond the first half of this chapter). _

_I don't own _Castle. _I'm just a girl with an imagination and too much free time on my hands. _

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><p>Castle stared out the window at the deepening navy sky and the moon rising above the building across the street. A few days had passed since it was full but it was still bright and large and round, hanging low in the sky over the city. The room behind him had grown dark but he wasn't bothered to turn on any lights. From the darkness of the study he could see the people on the street below and in a few of the apartments across the way.<p>

A harried looking mother was serving slices of pizza to her two children while her husband tried to comfort their screaming baby. Two floors below a couple sat together on their couch watching what looked like Jeopardy, while on the street a young woman was walking her miniature schnauzer and talking animatedly on her phone.

He watched as a car came to a stop at the curb and a little girl with dark pigtails and a pink dress hopped out and ran to meet a man waiting on the sidewalk. He crouched down and held his arms open for the girl and was almost knocked over when she threw herself into his embrace.

He remembered when Alexis was that little, how she would run to him and jump into his arms and laugh as he swung her around. These days she still smiled when she saw him but more and more lately there was a note of worry clouding her clear blue eyes and a hint of what he thought might be pity hiding in her smile. He'd seen it earlier that evening when she'd said goodbye to him before going out to meet her friends at the movies. His forced cheery smiles and corny jokes weren't fooling her and apparently, they hadn't been fooling his mother either. She'd gone to visit friends in the Hamptons for the week but he had heard Alexis on the phone with her a few days ago talking about him.

He felt rather voyeuristic, standing there in the dark staring out the window, but watching these people didn't give him any pleasure. In the middle of the city, he felt a hundred miles away from all the people outside, cut off from them as if he was living in a different world.

If the tabloid writers and photographers could see him now, he thought ruefully and almost laughed. The famous Richard life-of-the-party, never-a-dull-moment Castle, alone in a silent, empty apartment watching the world go by outside his window.

He could see the faint reflection of his study in the glass around him and he took a small step to his right to block the image of his laptop from view. He didn't need his screensaver to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing.

His deadline for _Heat Rises_ was quickly approaching and so far he'd only managed to write a few chapters worth of presentable material. He'd had the whole story planned and outlined months ago but then certain recent events had occurred and a different version of the story had taken over in his mind. The problem was getting it out of his mind and actually writing it.

There was a difficulty in writing Nikki Heat that he had never encountered with Derrick Storm or any of his other characters, because writing Nikki meant thinking about Kate and lately, thinking about Kate made his heart, his stomach and his head ache.

It had been over six weeks since the morning he'd stood in this very spot, watching the sun rise and ignoring the reflection of himself dressed all in black, thinking how inappropriate it was for the sun to be shining so brilliantly on such a sorrowful day.

And it had only gotten worse from there. He could still see it all so clearly- the folded flag, the glint of reflected sunlight, the tears leaking from her eyes and the red of her blood against the white of her gloves, followed by the agonizing endless hours of waiting.

It had taken her two days to regain consciousness after her surgery. Two days he'd spent wandering the hospital corridors and becoming numb to the pain of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, and two nights he'd spent tossing and turning, writing random sentences and paragraphs of a story he would probably never share, forgetting he was supposed to write Nikki instead of Kate.

Josh and her father had maintained a constant vigil, staying beside her night and day and the only thing that had kept Castle from keeping a vigil of his own had been Josh's presence at her bedside.

He'd tried, he really had, but the combination of anxiety and envy he'd felt every time he stepped into that room had been overwhelming. The sight of Kate, pale and small and unresponsive beneath the hospital blanket, surrounded by tubes and IVs and monitors, tied his stomach in knots of worry. And no matter how hard he tried to stop it, his eyes always strayed to her right hand, the one Josh constantly held in his own, his thumb brushing across her slim wrist, caressing the back of her hand. And Castle had never been able to stop his heart from aching at the sight of it.

It had always been too much. Too much worry, too much jealousy, too much uncertainty and too much silence punctuated only by the steady beeping of the monitors and the ticking of the clock.

It had overwhelmed him every time and forced him from the room, back to roaming the hallways. But he could never stay away for long. He could feel her pull on him, like the pull of a planet on the moon orbiting around it. It kept him close but never let him get as close as he wanted to be. There was always a distance between them, forces keeping them apart, when what he wanted was to fall out of orbit, to crash into her and let the fiery collision consume them both and transform them into something they could never be without the other.

Only Alexis's silently pleading eyes had been persuasive enough to convince him to leave the hospital and go home at night.

On the third day the ringing of his phone had woken him from a fitful sleep. He'd been half sitting, half lying in the armchair he could now see reflected in the window beside him. His laptop, black screened and cold from a long dead battery, had slid towards the floor as he jerked awake and lunged for it and missed as his stiff neck and back protested the movement. His phone had been sitting on his desk, in the same place it was now, at the corner next to a drink he'd poured hours earlier but hadn't been able to stomach.

By the time he'd stumbled to his feet and made it to his desk, the phone had fallen silent and when he reached for it, the screen flashed indicating a new voice mail.

It had been Jim Beckett calling to tell him Kate had woken up. He still had that message saved, but he hadn't listened to it again since that morning. He didn't need to. He had memorized it instantly, but whenever it replayed in his mind, it was always the beginning of an onslaught of complicated memories- her hand, the flowers, her smile and the nurse revealing Josh's plan.

He had walked away from Kate's room later that day with a sinking heart. The happiness he had felt walking down that hallway just a short while earlier had vanished and he'd already started resenting himself for that with every step he took. Kate was alive and awake. She would heal and she would be okay. That should have been enough to make him happy. And he was happy about that, but seeing her with Josh had hurt more than he wanted to admit and more now than it ever had before.

What had he been expecting? That just because he told her he loved her, she would dump her boyfriend and fall into his arms as soon as she woke? He didn't even know if she remembered anything he'd said before she lost consciousness.

And now she'd spent the last month and a half with Doctor Motorcycle Boy constantly by her side, taking care of all her needs and, try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from imagining the two of them curled up together with Kate flirtatiously complementing Josh on his excellent bedside manner, her voice dripping with innuendo, her eyes shining behind fluttering lashes.

He was the one who knew exactly how she liked her coffee and he knew that she was secretly a _Temptation Lane_ fan. He knew how she held her back just a little bit straighter when she entered a crime scene and he knew as much about her mother's murder as she did. But he didn't know how she acted on a lazy Sunday at home. He didn't know what it was like to whisper with her in the darkness and he didn't know the exact color her eyes were the moment she first opened them in the morning. And he wanted to know. He wanted to know all that and more. He wanted to know everything about her and spend years and years filling books with everything he learned, choosing facets of her mystery and modifying them so that they fit Nikki Heat and keeping the real truth of her to himself.

And he wanted to be the one to be there for her now and help her through the process of healing, but she had a doctor who could take her home and take care of her. How could he compete with that?

Castle sighed, watching the taillights of a taxi disappear as it turned around a corner below. It had been over a month since he had actually seen Kate or even spoken with her and it had been even longer since they'd actually had a real conversation, just the two of them.

He knew he could have, and probably should have, called her but at first he hadn't wanted to bother her if she was resting and then with each day that passed it got harder to press call and harder to think of what he could say. So he texted instead and spent time he should have been writing thinking of questions he could ask and claim were for research. At least that way he could say they were keeping in touch.

Every morning when he woke he felt the prodding twinge of guilt for not checking in more often and not doing more to help her recover. But what was he going to be able to do? He was just a writer after all, and she had Josh. She didn't need him for that.

…

Kate sighed as she carefully sunk into the hot water and breathed in the vanilla-lavender scented steam filled air. There was a book beside the tub but she ignored it as she closed her eyes and slid further down into the water until she could feel it lapping softly at her chin and the hairline at the back of her neck. She took a deep breath, letting her lungs expand until she felt the tightness and brief tug of pain in her side.

Healing had turned out to be a far more difficult and frustrating process than she had imagined it would be when she was released from the hospital. She experienced the first few weeks at home through a haze of pain medications that had left her constantly exhausted and blurred any distinctions between the days. The pain had been deep and intense whenever she moved and even with the prescribed painkillers, there was an ever-present ache that had made it impossible to ever feel entirely comfortable.

As the weeks passed and the meds became less necessary, the days had started to pass through a haze of monotony as she went through the same motions day in and day out within the confines of her apartment. The pain lessened and her muscles loosened, increasing her mobility, although her movements remained stilted and taxing. Over the past six weeks she'd watched countless hours of TV and movies, read through the box of books she'd ordered online and re-read half of her own collection again, trying not to let herself dwell on thoughts of her mother's unsolved case, Montgomery's death and the nameless and faceless Dragon who was still out there somewhere and wanted her dead.

Josh had been by her side for the first four weeks before he went back to work on a reduced schedule. He was sweet and attentive but not overbearing and she finally appreciated what a great doctor he was to all the people he treated and helped. Still, it had been awhile since she'd had to regularly share her space with someone else and at times she'd found herself longing for her independence.

As soon as she was allowed to get the wound wet, the bathtub became her oases of solitude. She would shut the door and sink into the water and, surrounded by silence, let herself get lost in a book. They were never Castle's though. She skipped over his on her bookshelf, unwilling to pull one out and see his face on the back cover or read his words. The comfort she usually got from them was now overshadowed by the emotional turmoil she felt whenever thoughts of him crossed her mind.

When she woke up in the hospital, the doctor had explained that some memory loss was normal after a traumatic event and injury, but for her that wasn't the case. She remembered everything perfectly. The images were clear, the sounds distinct, the scents and sensations lodged in her brain. The warmth of the sun, the light breeze against her face, the subtle scent of the flowers on the podium and the sharp crack of the shot, Castle shouting her name, the cries of the crowd, the sudden intensely hot pain and the sensation of falling.

She remembered the smell of the grass and the color of the sky and the look of horror on Castle's face as he filled her vision. She could still feel the ghost of his hand cradling her head and she could recall with exact detail the sound of his voice and the words he'd said. And as impossible as it seemed, she thought she could almost remember the sensation of losing consciousness.

When he walked into her hospital room a short while after she woke, she had pulled her hand away from Josh's without thinking. She remembered how an odd look she didn't know how to describe had crossed Castle's face before he lifted his eyes to meet hers. He'd had dark circles under his eyes to rival her father's and a shadow of stubble along his chin and jaw, but when he smiled his blue eyes had sparkled familiarly.

She smiled as she thought of what had happened after that. He had told her it was good to see her awake again and then he'd brought his hands together in front of him and, with a dramatic flourish, a flash of red, yellow, pink and green had appeared. It had taken a moment for her mind to recognize that it was the magic trick bouquet of feathery flowers she'd given him months ago back in January when he and Gina split up.

"Re-gifting, I see," she'd teased. "Bestselling author can't even spring for something original for his partner?"

And for a moment, as he'd smiled back and offered to buy her a teddy bear from the gift shop instead, everything had felt normal and right. Josh and her father had watched them waiting for an explanation but they'd both kept quiet. Even when Josh had asked about it later she hadn't told him. Whatever she and Castle were, whether friends, partners or something else, their relationship was theirs alone. They knew the story behind those flowers and that was enough.

Kate wiggled her toes in the bathwater and watched the little ripples appear and expand. That moment in the hospital had been lost when a nurse walked in and revealed that Josh had already made plans and taken time off from work to stay with her while she recovered. The woman in the cheery, polka dotted scrubs had thought it was the sweetest thing and couldn't stop smiling at Josh, but Kate's gaze had sought her partner. Castle's smile had disappeared for a moment before he forced one back in its place but it never reached his eyes.

She had only seen Castle once since that day in the hospital. The day after she was released, he, Ryan, Lanie and Esposito had brought dinner over to her apartment. Their visit didn't last very long and she didn't eat much but she had enjoyed seeing them all together again even though Josh's presence lent an aspect of awkwardness to the occasion.

After that, Lanie, Esposito and Ryan had dropped by whenever they could but Castle hadn't made a reappearance.

He hadn't been totally absent though. A few days after the dinner, he'd sent her a box set of _Temptation Lane_ DVDs. The accompanying card had been unsigned but she knew they were from him. No one else knew what that show meant to her.

There were also the texts. He sent her at least one a day, asking a random question he claimed was research for the Nikki Heat novel he was working on. She'd seen through his excuse right away but didn't mind. She was glad for the texts. They livened up the days and made her smile, but it would be nice to actually see Castle in person again. She couldn't deny that his distance hurt a bit but she also couldn't deny that she understood why he was staying away. And phones work both ways, she reminded herself. She could just as easily call him instead of choosing to reply to his texts with ones of her own.

In the idle moments when the books and the TV screen couldn't hold her attention and her mind got away from her, she wondered if his interest in her faded when she was just sitting around at home rather than out catching killers. It was foolish and she knew Castle better than to actually believe that, but she had a hard time controlling her thoughts. Or maybe he'd been pushed too far with her stubbornness over her mother's case, Montgomery's death and her shooting. Maybe it was too much and he was distancing himself from her before he got irreversibly caught up in the vortex of death that seemed to constantly swirl around her.

She really couldn't blame him if that was the case. He hadn't known what he was getting himself into when he started shadowing her, but he'd said always and she'd gotten used to having him around.

Castle had said he loved her but then he'd practically disappeared from her life. Was he trying to do the noble thing, bowing out because he thought she was happy with Josh or was he regretting his words, realizing it was a mistake brought on by the emotional upheaval of the moment? And why did the thought that he might regret it make her heart sink like a stone?

Kate shook her head, trying to clear the tangled mess of thoughts in her mind and took a deep breath before submerging herself fully under the water in the tub.

She was with Josh and she was happy, wasn't she? They'd stayed together this long and that had to mean they had something.

Castle was her friend and colleague but he had a life beyond the work he did with her. He was probably busy doing things more important and more interesting than hanging out with her while she recovered. He was a bestselling author, after all. He had a book to write and he didn't need her for that anymore.

…

His phone vibrating on the desk behind him pulled Castle out of his reverie and he stepped away from the window, crossing the shadowy room to get it. He glanced at the caller ID quickly as he picked it up.

"Hey, Esposito!" he answered, "How's it going?"

"Hey, Castle," Esposito greeted him shortly, his voice flat. Castle could hear the murmurs of indistinct conversation in the background and thought he may have heard Ryan and Lanie's voices. "We're at a scene," the detective continued, "Think you could come meet us down here?"

"Um, yeah, sure," Castle answered, taken a bit by surprise, the edge on Esposito's voice starting to make him feel uneasy. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, just think you ought to see this one."

"Okay."

"I'll text you the address. And pick up Beckett on the way. She should see this too." Esposito hung up without another word and a few seconds later Castle's phone chimed when the text arrived. He slid it into his pocket, grabbed a jacket, keys and wallet, and after leaving a quick note on the counter for Alexis, headed out hoping he wouldn't have to wait long for a taxi.

…

Castle took a deep breath before knocking on Beckett's door and then panicked slightly in the seconds that passed before it was answered. He should have called her, he should have visited more, he should have gotten more information out of Esposito before turning up outside her door at 9:15 at night after not seeing her in more than a month.

When the door opened, he was greeted by Josh looking surprised and not exactly happy to see him.

"Uh, hey, is Kate around?" he asked and then mentally kicked himself. Where else would she be?

The look on Josh's face told him he was thinking the same thing. "Um, yeah, she's here," he answered and stepped back to let him in.

"She should be out in a minute," Josh told him as he closed the door. "She just got out of the bath."

Castle nodded and glanced around. The apartment looked pretty much the same as it had the last time he was there, just a little less tidy and a little more lived in. They stood just inside the kitchen area and an awkward silence fell between them until Josh broke it.

"So, you must be getting a lot of writing done lately with all the questions you've had for Kate," he commented and Castle thought he picked up a note of irritation in his voice.

"Uh, yeah, well, it's important to get the details right, you know. That's what makes it realistic."

"Right," Josh said, nodding slowly.

Castle glanced around again and noted the pile of books stacked on the coffee table.

"Do you read much?"

"Mostly medical journals."

"Right, doctors have to keep up with the latest developments." Josh nodded again and they were both spared further conversation when they heard Kate's voice.

"Josh, was someone at the door?" she asked as she walked into the living room, still fastening the last button at the bottom of her shirt. "I thought I heard-" She looked up and spotted him and her lips spread into a wide, surprised smile. "Castle, what are you doing here?"

He smiled in return and answered, "Esposito called me. He and Ryan are at a scene and he said it's something we'd want to see."

Her brow furrowed as she looked at him and he could tell her mind was flying through all the possibilities that he'd already considered on his way there.

Her eyes questioned him and he could only shrug in reply. "He sounded serious."

"Ok," she said and glanced down at herself, seeming to decide that the jeans and loose button down she was wearing would be alright for a crime scene.

"I'm sorry Josh, I need to go," she told him, already moving to slide her feet into a pair of flats.

Josh stepped toward her. "You're still recovering, Kate," he protested. "Can't they handle whatever it is without you?"

"I'm sure they could, but if they asked us to come, then they had a good reason and it must be important." She slipped on a light jacket and grabbed her phone and keys. "I'll call you later," she told him and turned to Castle.

"Let's go."

…

The cab ride to the scene passed mostly in silence, not awkward but not truly comfortable either. Castle kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and each time he did he got the feeling she had just turned her eyes away from him.

It was the first time they had been alone together since the moments just after Montgomery's death when they'd sat beside each other in silence waiting for Ryan and Esposito and the Jersey troopers to arrive.

In the back of that cab he could feel all the things that needed to be said and acknowledged between them hanging suspended in the stale air. But he kept his lips pressed firmly together, preventing himself from forming the questions he was dying to ask her but was terrified to bring up. The backseat of a smelly cab was no place to have that conversation and they had a crime scene to worry about.

The cab dropped them off about a block away from the address Esposito had sent him. The street in front of the building was crowded with CSU vehicles, the ME's van and squad cars, their blue and red lights throwing splashes of color across the front of the building.

The officer posted at the front door nodded in recognition at Beckett as they climbed the few short steps. "They're up on the fifth floor," he told her. "Apartment 5D."

They crossed the building's lobby toward the elevator as its doors slid open revealing a young CSU tech with a box full of evidence bags. He glanced up and grinned as he caught sight of Castle and Beckett.

"Detective Beckett, it's so good to see you again! And you too, Mr. Castle," he said, shifting the box in his arms so that he could see more easily around it.

Beckett smiled back at him. "Hey, Bradford. Do you need some help with that?"

"Oh, no, no, I've got it," he said, shaking his head, his gold waves flopping back and forth. "But I should probably get it outside. They want it sent to the lab soon. I'll see you around, Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle."

Beckett nodded and stepped into the elevator and Castle followed, frowning as he turned to watch the young man cross the lobby to the front door.

"What's the matter?" Beckett asked him, reaching out to press the button for the fifth floor. The circle around the number five lit up and the elevator shuddered as it started its ascent.

"Have I ever actually met that kid before?"

"Bradford? Yeah, I think so, but he's like that with practically everyone. He used to just work in the lab but he got promoted a few months ago so now he does field work, too."

The elevator jolted and came to a stop and the doors slid open onto a dimly lit hallway. The main source of light was an open door with a uniformed officer posted beside it. When he spotted Castle and Beckett he stepped inside and a moment later Ryan and Esposito joined them in the hallway.

"Hey," they said in unison, their expressions serious.

"What's going on?" Beckett asked and Ryan glanced at his partner a bit apprehensively before answering.

"You should probably just come see for yourselves."

Esposito led them into the apartment, down a hallway passing the kitchen on the left and the bedroom and bathroom on the right, into a small living room area. A window let in waves of blue and red lights from the squad cars on the street below drawing Castle's attention to where they danced across the collection of framed art prints on the wall above the couch. He recognized the works of van Gogh, Klimt and Monet before his eye dropped to the couch itself.

He only just managed to bite his tongue and keep the string of expletives from flying out of his mouth.

A young woman was laying there. Her hair, a startlingly familiar shade of chestnut brown, fell in waves over the edge of the seat cushion. Her eyes were closed and her hands were resting gracefully on her stomach. She could have been sleeping except for the band of angry, red bruised and abraded skin around her neck.

He heard Beckett's sharp inhale beside him as his heart plummeted and his stomach filled with dread.

"Her name's Polina Bancroft," Esposito said, his voice sounding like it was coming from far away as it competed with the whirlwind of memories flying through Castle's head. "Building super was going around checking smoke detector batteries when he found her. The boys at the 8th called us in when they found this."

Esposito grabbed an evidence bag from a box on the floor and as he turned back to them, Castle recognized the book inside it immediately. He should have. After all, he was the one who wrote it. He glanced at Beckett and saw from the steely glint in her eyes and the tightness of her jaw that she recognized it as well. She reached out to take it from Esposito and Castle stepped closer to look over her shoulder.

It was open to the dedication page, the dedication page he'd spent days agonizing over, choosing the perfect words for and then waiting anxiously to see her reaction, the tiny smile and the warmth in her eyes, which had made it all worth it in the end.

Only the dedication in this book had been altered. The changes had been inked in with red pen so that it now read: _To RC, the extraordinary KB and all my friends at the 12__th__ – 3XK _

"She was holding it when they found her," Ryan said softly and Castle tore his eyes away from the page to look at him.

"Is it really him?" he asked although the look on Ryan's face had already given him his answer.

"As far as we can tell at this point, yeah, it's him."

"But what about her hair?"

"She's a blonde. The brunette is just a wig," Lanie said as she joined them, her worried eyes settling on Beckett. Castle glanced at her too as she tucked her hair behind her ear and felt his stomach clench as he connected the victim's wig to the dedication in the book Beckett was still holding open in her hands.

"He tried to make her look like you," he said through the sudden tightness in his throat and he could tell from the look in her eyes when she turned to meet his gaze that she had already made that connection for herself. She was careful to arrange her expression and appear unfazed but behind the mask of impassiveness he could detect a glimmer of unease.

"There's more," Lanie stated grimly, stepping closer to the couch. "She was shot, post mortem."

Lanie leaned down and gently moved the young woman's arm, revealing a bullet hole in the right side of her abdomen, just below her breast.

"How the hell does he know where you were shot?" Castle exclaimed and he could feel the beginnings of panic bubbling in his chest. This couldn't be happening, not now.

No one answered his question and Beckett turned her attention back to Ryan and Esposito. "What else do we know about her?"

Ryan flipped open his notebook and read out what they knew so far. "She's twenty-five years old, originally from Albany. She moved down here a few years ago for school and has lived in this apartment for the past three years."

"Her ID badge says she works in the education department at MoMA. She also has an ID for the New York City Police Museum. She was a volunteer there," Esposito supplied, showing her another evidence bag containing the two badges.

"He's making sure he has our attention," Beckett said quietly, almost to herself.

"Lanie puts TOD around twenty-four hours ago," Esposito added as Beckett stepped away to take a closer look around the room.

"And no one heard or saw anything?" she asked and Castle watched as her eyes skimmed over the neatly arranged row of DVDs beside the television and the picture frames and candles arranged on the small table at the end of the couch. Nothing appeared to be out of place and there were no marks on Polina Bancroft's body to indicate that there had been any struggle.

"Neighbor down the hall said she saw Ms. Bancroft come home last night around 6:30 and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She didn't notice anyone come or go after that," Ryan told them.

"There's no doorman on the building and no security cameras," Esposito said and shrugged. "We can check the surrounding buildings and traffic cams but it's a long shot."

"And pointless since we already know who did this," Castle cut in, his voice sharp.

"We don't know for certain that it was him, Castle," Beckett said, turning around to face him and crossing her arms in front of her.

"The hell we don't, Kate. This is no copycat and you know it." He pointed across the room to where Polina Bancroft was laid out on the couch. "He dedicated this murder to us and signed his name to it."

She sighed, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she looked at him before glancing away to Ryan and Esposito beside them. Neither of the other detectives said anything, their silence speaking their agreement with Castle.

After a moment she sighed again and nodded. "Check for cameras still. We might be able to get a current picture."

Esposito glanced at his watch and then at his partner who nodded. "It's late and we've learned everything we can for now. How 'bout we call it a night? We'll look into the cameras and then see what Lanie's autopsy and the lab reports say tomorrow and proceed from there."

"That is, if you're feeling up for it," Ryan said, his concerned gaze falling on Beckett. "We know you're still on the DL, but I have a feeling we're going to need all the help we can get on this one."

She nodded. "I have to get cleared to make it official but, yeah, no way am I going to sit this one out."

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading! If you have any thoughts you would like to share please feel free to use the review button below. <em>

_The next couple chapters are basically done so they should be posted soon-ish. Stay tuned. _

_-Kiisu _


	2. Overdue

Kate took a deep breath as she tiredly climbed the stairs to her apartment and cursed the out-of-order elevator and the effects of her six weeks of convalescence. She had always made a point of staying in shape, for the job and for her health, and hated that it only took a couple flights of stairs now to leave her short of breath and make the muscles in her legs ache. Getting shot really sucked far beyond the actual getting shot moment.

She hated the feeling of weakness and vulnerability that the shooting had left her with. Her gun and her vest were always her first line of defense but when she didn't have them to rely on she had to rely on herself and her body's abilities to get her through whatever situation she was in. But now she just felt unprepared and that wasn't a feeling she wanted to be experiencing as they faced off against Jerry Tyson.

With a heavy sigh Kate unlocked her door, thinking longingly of her bed. She made sure it was locked behind her and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it and her keys on the dining room table, not bothering to hang them in their usual places or turn on any lights. Ambient light filtered in from outside illuminating the space, although she knew it well enough by now that she probably could have made her way from the front door to her bed in the dark without bumping into anything.

"Hey," a low voice said behind her and she jumped and spun around, sending a fresh jolt of pain through her healing muscles. Josh was walking towards her, a faint light from her bedroom visible behind him.

"Oh! Josh." She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. "You're still here."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

She waved off his apology. "I didn't expect you to still be here."

A glance at her watch told her it was already well after midnight. He had an early surgery the next morning and he usually spent the nights before those at his own apartment which was much closer to the hospital. "It's late. What are you still doing here?"

"I need to talk to you." His tone was serious and she felt a touch of dread, her nerves already on edge from the events of the night.

"What's going on?"

"I… I found… that." He gestured across the apartment to the room that functioned as an office space. When she stepped through the doorway, her eyes went to the shutters that served as the murder board for her mother's case. They had been closed ever since she returned home from the hospital but they were open now.

"What the hell Josh! Why are you snooping around in my stuff?" She strode angrily across the room to the shutters. She knew that she shouldn't be so mad at him. He'd always respected her need for space and wouldn't have intentionally invaded her privacy by searching through her things while she was gone but she was lashing out because this confrontation was the last thing she wanted right now. This wasn't how she had intended for him to find out. Actually, if she was honest, she'd never intended for him to find out at all.

"I wasn't… that's not, that's not the point here, Kate!" Josh spluttered as he followed her across the room. "Johanna Beckett? That's your mom, isn't it?"

She didn't answer him as she closed the shutters and tried to hide the photos and information away again, but what was done, was done. She couldn't make Josh forget what he'd seen any more than she could forget about it herself.

He seemed to take her lack of response to his question as confirmation and plowed on, his tone indignant.

"Your mother was murdered? I thought you said she had cancer."

She took a deep breath, crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him. "I never said that, you just made that assumption." She spoke calmly, almost detachedly.

"And you never bothered to correct me?"

"It's not something I usually tell people about."

"I'm not just 'people', Kate!" he exclaimed, then paused and shrugged dejectedly. "Or maybe I am."

"Josh, I…"

"Did you tell Castle about this?" he asked accusingly. "Does he know?" She remembered standing in this same room months ago with Castle asking that same question about Josh and trying to hide his smile when she replied.

Josh didn't try to hide his displeasure when she answered him.

"Yes, but that-" She broke off as he turned and strode out of the office. His long legs took him to the middle of her living room before he turned back around to face her as she followed him.

"Do you love me?"

His question stopped her in her tracks. "What?"

"It's an easy question, Kate. Yes or no. We've been together long enough for you to know."

"Josh… I…"

"Do you love Castle?"

She stared at him, shocked by his boldness, searching for something to say. Only the soft whir of the refrigerator kicking on broke the deafening silence between them.

"You know what? You don't have to answer. I know what the truth is. I was just hoping you would tell me I'm wrong." He sat down heavily on the couch and rubbed a hand across his face.

Kate sighed and closed her eyes. How had it come to this? How had she let it get this far? She'd never intended for him to get caught in the middle, never wanted him to get hurt, never wanted to be the one to hurt him.

She opened her eyes and looked at Josh as he started to speak again. His voice was tinged with sadness and she could tell the fight was over.

"I know our relationship was never perfect but I thought we had a chance and with time we'd work it out. But we've been spending all this time together lately and the only time I've seen you really smile and look happy is when Castle texts you or when you talk about him or when you see him. You've never looked at me the way you look at him."

He stopped and rubbed a hand across his face again.

"I love you, Kate, but I can't sit around waiting for the day you decide to either let him go or to take a chance with him and let me go." He stood and grabbed a bag she hadn't noticed was sitting on the floor beside the couch. "I gathered my things. If I find any of your stuff at my place I'll send it to you."

She nodded and he walked to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Goodbye, Kate."

"I'm really sorry, Josh," she whispered, a few tears of regret prickling the corners of her eyes.

"Yeah," he sighed, "me too."

She watched him walk away and out the door, the snap of it shutting behind him echoing through her quiet, lonely apartment. She followed his steps and slid the locks back into place, leaning her head against the panel of the door for a moment. The fact that he was gone didn't sting as much as the knowledge that she had hurt him did. Maybe if she hadn't been so tired she would have fought harder.

But when she climbed into bed a few minutes later and thought about it, she realized that there hadn't really anything left to fight for.

…

Late the next morning Kate stepped out of the elevator and headed for Castle's door. She had spent the morning at the 12th precinct, her first visit back there since the night before the funeral and the shooting. She remembered how Montgomery's office had sat in darkness that night, exactly as he'd left it, a silent memorial to their fallen leader that no one dared enter or alter.

But it was different now. The office was no longer his and all of Montgomery's familiar personal touches were gone. It now belonged, for the moment, to Captain Matt Hadley, the Interim Captain who had transferred over from the 21st.

She had never met Hadley before but she knew his story, every NYPD cop heard it at some point while they were at the academy. When Hadley was a rookie, on his first day on the job, he and his partner had been called out to a bar fight. When they stepped in, Hadley had gotten stabbed in the stomach, but he had still managed to chase the perp out of the bar and down the street. When his partner was finally able to track him down, he found Hadley bleeding and passed out on the sidewalk with the knife still in him, while the would-be murderer was handcuffed to a street sign next to him.

Many people were surprised when the announcement was made six years ago that he had been appointed Captain at the 21st. Everyone had always thought he was the kind of cop who was only happy out on the streets tracking down the bad guys. But he seemed to adjust well to life behind a desk and had a knack for dealing with bureaucracy. He had happily been looking forward to retirement but had agreed to delay it a few months and stay on as Captain at the 12th until they could find someone permanent to fill the position.

His supervisory style was a bit more laissez-faire than some thought was appropriate but he said he believed in his detectives' ability to do their jobs without him looking over their shoulders and trusted that if there was a problem they would come to him.

At least that was what he had told Kate during their meeting that morning. Hadley hadn't seemed surprised to see her when she knocked on his office door and had told her straight out that he was glad she was offering to be reinstated early. "This Triple Killer thing is a mess," he'd said tossing the case file onto the desk, "I'll be glad to see the whole thing wrapped up and put away for good but for that I'm going to need my best guys, and well, girls, on the case and that's you, Detective Beckett." Then he'd laid out the conditions for her early return- "Get cleared by your doctor, get cleared by a shrink, then come back here and nail this lousy SOB."

Kate knocked once on the door to the loft and was about to again when Castle pulled it open.

"Hey, come on in." He stepped back and held the door open, smiling warmly. The corners of his eyes crinkled but she noted that their usual shine was dimmed and he looked tired.

"Thanks," she said softly, brushing past him. She took a quick, deep breath, inhaling the distinctive scent of the loft. It was coffee and nutmeg with a hint of his cologne and something cedar-ish she could never quite place. Not that she would ever admit to having thought about it before.

He closed the door and when she turned she saw him double-checking the lock. Kate tried to recall if she had ever seen him be so cautious before but couldn't. He'd always been confident in the safety of his secure building.

"I was just at the 12th," she told him as he turned away from the door.

"Have they found anything?"

"Not yet. Ryan and Esposito are doing what they can for now. They're still waiting for lab results and interviewing friends and coworkers."

She sighed and continued. "I talked to the interim captain, Hadley. He's agreed that I can come back early to work this case but I have to talk to a psychologist and get cleared first. I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon."

"That's…that's good," he said but she could feel his eyes searching her for something more and she looked away.

From where she stood she could see into his study. His laptop was open on the desk and it was surrounded by papers. A whiteboard stood next to the desk covered in a chaotic jumble of notes and lines connecting to the photos and sketches taped around the edges. It wasn't like the organized layout she'd seen him make in the past.

"Look, Castle," she said as she turned her eyes back to him again, "I know you have a book you need to be writing but-"

"If you want me there, I'll be there." His voice was firm and full of conviction and she smiled softly in return, nodding.

"I can't just sit back and wait to see what happens with this one any more than you can," he added and she could see the haunted look in his eyes, the remorse and anger and determination.

"I know." She spoke quietly, barely more than a whisper but she knew he heard her. He caught something else in her voice too. She could tell the instant his concern about the case shifted to concern for her.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," she said with a quick smile before she stepped away from him and moved toward the office. Her ears had picked up soft notes of music coming from in there.

"I just didn't get much sleep last night," she admitted as the swell of a violin pulled her closer to its source. Its sound was haunting and sorrowful, the kind of music you could feel in your soul.

She stepped into the office and paused, her eyes momentarily lingering on the _Heat Rises_ cover art leaning against the wall behind his desk. She could feel his presence at her back and moved further into the room.

"Are you ready for this? I mean, coming back early to work _this _case?" he questioned as he crossed the room to his laptop. He turned down the volume of the music but didn't turn it all the way off and the notes fell softly in the air around them.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him then shook her head and laughed softly, mirthlessly. "Tyson probably couldn't have picked a worse time to reappear, but I'm ready for it. I need to get back to work. I need things to feel normal again."

Castle nodded and she glanced away again, letting her eyes trail over the titles on the bookshelf beside her before speaking.

"That's not the only thing, though. Josh and I had a fight last night."

"Oh..."

Her eyes darted back to him for a second and she could tell he was trying to appear sympathetic and disinterested. He'd shoved his hands into his pockets and was trying to look casual but he couldn't conceal the gleam of curiosity in his eyes.

"We broke up," she confessed softly to the books, unable to face him and watch his reaction. She knew she didn't have to tell him this so soon but something was compelling her to, some part of her that believed he deserved to know. But she couldn't look at him, couldn't watch him try to hide the hope and happiness in his eyes and wonder what it meant for them.

"I…I'm sorry," he said after a moment and she turned to face him, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Was it bad?" he asked, ignoring her look.

She shrugged. "He found the murder board for my mom's case and it sort of escalated from there. He said some things… they were true, I just didn't really want to hear them."

They were both quiet for several long moments, listening to the rise and fall of the piano and violin filling the space around them.

Finally Castle spoke again.

"Do you want some lunch? I was going to grab something soon."

Kate shook her head. "Thanks, but I should get going. I have a doctor's appointment," she said, gesturing vaguely to her side, but she didn't move to leave. Instead, she stepped toward the windows and ran her fingertips along the top of the ledge there, taking a deep breath to calm the nerves that had started fluttering inside her.

"Castle, I…I want you to know that I remember what you said…when I got shot…"

He was silent behind her and it suddenly felt like there was a lot less oxygen in the room as she tried to take a deep breath and continue.

"…Did you really mean what you said?" she asked and then hurried to explain. "It's just, people say things sometimes when they think someone is dying, things they wouldn't otherwise say and sometimes in an emotional situation feelings get… confused."

The last syllable had barely left her mouth before he spoke.

"I meant what I said, Kate, and the situation didn't bring on my feelings. It just finally made me brave enough to tell you because I was scared I might not get another chance."

She nodded, still keeping her eyes lowered and her back to him. It was what she was expecting and what she'd known all along. Their time apart had made her question it, but being back together again had made her realize how crazy she had been to doubt him. For a while now she had been aware that his feelings for her were deeper than he usually let on. He had tried to keep them to himself, but there had been no hiding them when he looked at her on that couch in L.A. or when he'd reached for her in that god-awful freezer or kissed her on that dark street outside that warehouse. She'd known but chosen to ignore it because as exhilarating as it was, it was that much more terrifying. But it couldn't go unacknowledged any longer.

"I brought it up because I don't want you to think that I'm ignoring it, or that it's something else we're never going to talk about…. Or that it's something I don't want." Her last words were a whisper, barely louder than the lightest sigh but they hung heavy in the air between them as she turned around to face him. She didn't look at him though, and her eyes settled on his desk as she continued.

"But right now… I just…I can't. With everything that's happened and now Tyson…I..."

"Kate," he spoke softly, cutting off her struggle to explain herself. "It's alright. I understand and I'm not expecting anything from you."

She finally raised her eyes to meet his and felt her breath catch at the intensity in their azure depths.

"But you need to know that, although the circumstances could have been better, I'm not sorry that I told you and I'm not going to take it back. My feelings for you aren't new and they're not going to go away."

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming but she forced herself to hold his gaze and not turn away again. She needed him to see that although she was putting them on the backburner for now, she wasn't running away.

The melancholy strands of the violin swept around them again, accompanied by the measured drops of piano keys, and they stood there watching each other, trying to read the emotions playing across the other's face and the thoughts they still held inside.

Finally, Kate nodded and found her voice again.

"I promise we'll talk about this, I mean _really_ talk about it…sometime."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said with a light grin and that old, familiar sparkle in his eyes and she felt the tension drain out of her. It was like everything between them that had been off kilter since her shooting was finally sliding back into place and balancing out.

Castle spoke again, his voice full of warmth. "Thank you, for telling me."

Kate smiled softly and nodded before glancing down at her watch.

"I really do need to get going now."

He walked her to the door, following just a little bit closer than usual so that their shoulders bumped as he reached to undo the lock for her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said softly as she stepped out into the hall and headed for the elevator.

She was halfway there when he called out, "I'll bring the coffee!"

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading!<em>

_The music I imagined Castle listening to here is actually the score to the movie _The Road, _composed by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis. I've never seen the movie but I've been listening to the score a lot lately. It has some really phenomenal, gorgeous tracks, especially "The Beach". If you like movie scores I'd suggest checking that one out. _


	3. Wigging Out

The familiar sights and sounds of the 12th precinct homicide bullpen greeted Castle when he stepped off the elevator the next morning, coffee in hand. His feet walked the familiar path toward Beckett's desk and he recalled the last time he had been there. It was nearly seven weeks ago now, the night Montgomery had told him he was the only one who could convince Beckett to back down from her pursuit of the truth behind her mother's murder.

Castle glanced into the Captain's office as he passed. The man behind the desk, Hadley he presumed, was on the phone, receiver clenched tightly in his hand against his ear. His skin had the slightly weathered look of a man who had spent a lot of time outdoors in his younger days. His hair was still thick, but more salt than pepper, and his impressive mustache twitched as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Probably not the best time for an introduction Castle thought as he continued by.

Beckett had pulled her chair over to where the murder board was set up and was looking through a set of papers in her hands. Ryan had pulled his chair up next to hers and Castle could see that his gaze was fixed on the photo of Jerry Tyson pinned to the board in front of him.

"Hey," he greeted them, pulling coffees out of the tray and handing them over.

A gentle smile spread across Beckett's lips as she took hers. "Thanks."

"So, where's Esposito?" he asked, looking around for the missing detective.

"Right behind you, bro." Castle turned. Esposito was walking toward them carrying a chair he recognized immediately when he caught sight of the ugly brown upholstery. It was the chair he'd adopted as his own several years ago. It was outdated and far less comfortable than the ones the real detectives had but he looked at it affectionately now. It had been too long.

"Thought you might need this," Esposito said as he set it down. "Someone moved it into the break room for some reason." He grabbed a coffee from the tray in Castle's hand and moved to drag his own chair over.

The four of them formed an arc in front of the board, sipping their coffee in silence for a moment as they looked at it. Tyson's picture was in the left corner with the little information they knew about him written below. A thick black vertical line had been drawn on to separate him from the timeline that stretched across the rest of the board. Polina Bancroft's photo hung over the start of it with her name and estimated time of death inked in below. The remainder of the board was blank, leaving plenty of room for additional victims- a gloomy prediction of what their future held if they didn't catch Tyson soon.

"So where are we?" Castle asked, breaking the contemplative silence.

"Basically we're still at square one," Esposito said, shaking his head and giving a frustrated sigh.

"Except not square one because we already know who as well as when, how and why," Ryan chimed in, just as frustrated as his partner. "We just don't know where he is."

"Or what he really even looks like now," Beckett added.

She passed him some of the papers she had been looking through and continued. "We had a sketch artist draw up some possibilities of how he might have changed his appearance. We're circulating them now to all the precincts and other departments throughout the tri-state area."

Castle flipped through them, giving each a cursory glance. Tyson with long hair, no hair, a full beard, a goatee, a mustache, light hair, glasses… it didn't matter much to him. He knew, beyond a doubt, that he would recognize Jerry Tyson no matter what he looked like. There was only so much a person could do to change their appearance and there was no way Tyson would be able to hide the hard, coldblooded cruelty that lurked in his eyes and every cell of his body.

Esposito spoke again. "We showed them to her colleagues and some friends and the other residents of her building but no one recognized him. And there are no cameras that cover the front or back entrances of the building."

Castle eyes were drawn to the photo of the blonde, young woman on the board in front of him. She was so young with so much life left in front of her and now all that potential, all those future plans and dreams, were gone. He thought of her family and the hell they were surely going through right now and felt something pull at his heart. He had never truly understood the depth of the pain and empathy behind the expression 'tugging at your heartstrings' until he'd started working with Beckett.

"Sounds like she was pretty much the perfect victim for him- young, blonde, single, lived alone in a fairly unsecure building, plus she had a connection to the NYPD through her volunteer work at the museum."

"We think the police museum is probably how he found her," Ryan told him. "We asked around down there but no one remembers seeing anything either."

"Not surprising," Beckett said, tapping her finger on the side of her coffee cup as she thought. "I mean, an average looking white guy who may have been there sometime within the last six to eight months? No one's going to remember that unless he did something to draw attention to himself and he's too smart for that."

They all nodded in agreement and went back to studying the board in silence as if hidden somewhere in the little information they had was the answer that would lead them straight to Tyson, if only they could find it and figure it out.

"What about Tyson's girlfriend?" Castle asked after a moment, turning to look at the detectives beside him. "The one Gates tried to kill, Donna Gallagher?"

Esposito answered, "She packed up and got the hell out of here not long after that but we managed to track her down. She changed her name and moved to Santa Fe, said she hasn't seen or heard from Jerry since he got out of prison and she wants it to stay that way."

"The autopsy didn't find anything useful. The bullet's a match to the gun he took off Ryan and Lanie found green and white fibers in the neck wound so he's keeping that part of his MO the same," Beckett said as she passed the folder containing the autopsy report to Castle. He took it but left it closed.

"So we're left with the other things he left behind- the book and the wig." Beckett turned to Ryan and Esposito.

"The book isn't going to help us at all," Esposito started before his partner stepped in to explain.

"Yeah, there's no way to trace who purchased it or where it was purchased. It is a best seller," he said with a nod to Castle, "and with the movie in the works, sales are on the rise again. He could have ordered it online or bought it months ago or walked into any bookstore in the city and bought it and no one would have thought anything of it."

"Unless they were taking note of his impeccable taste in fiction." As one the three detectives all looked at him, their expressions unchanging, and then pointedly turned away again, choosing to ignore his comment.

"We're still trying to track down a manufacturer for the wig to see where he might have got it from," Ryan said, passing a photo of it along to Beckett, "but it's slow going.

Castle stared at the picture Becket was holding. Up close, even with a photo, the resemblance between the wig and her hair was striking. The color was nearly a perfect match and that wave that fell along her cheek… Something clicked in his mind.

"It's wavy."

The others turned to look at him, puzzled by his sudden exclamation.

"What?"

"The wig. It's wavy."

"Yeah, what about it?" Beckett asked, eyeing him curiously.

"So, the last time you saw Tyson you were still wearing your hair straight." He could see Ryan and Esposito shooting each other looks, silently commenting on his ability to recall Beckett's hair style but he ignored them. In his mind he replayed the memory of Beckett bringing him coffee by that motel swimming pool and reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear as she sat down beside him. The memory was superimposed over the image of Beckett in front of him now, waves flowing over her shoulders as she looked at him thoughtfully.

"You're right," she said softly, giving him an odd look before glancing back down at the picture in her hand.

"Wait," Esposito said sharply as he stood, "do you think this means he's seen you since he left that motel? Like he's been watching you or something?" He tossed the remnants of his coffee into the trash and crossed his arms over his chest looking at Beckett with concern evident in his dark eyes.

She stayed quiet for a moment, biting her lip while she thought about it.

"I guess it's possible he's seen me since or been watching," she admitted and Castle felt the flames of fear and hate burn hotter and lick the walls of his insides at the thought. "Or he could have seen a picture somewhere. There was a lot of media coverage after I got shot, wasn't there? And sometimes you get those crazy fans who snap pictures when we're trying to work and then probably post them online." She looked to Castle and he gave a small noncommittal jerk of his head before she turned to the others.

Ryan looked uneasy too. "I guess that's possible," he said slowly, his words laced with doubt.

The three men exchanged troubled glances. It had only been a month and a half since the shooting, since they'd almost lost her, and now there was potentially another person out there with nefarious intentions toward her.

"Don't look so worried," Beckett told them, catching the apprehensive looks on their faces, "I'm not planning on dying my hair blonde any time soon. Plus, I've already got that security detail following me around."

"You know about that?" Esposito asked in surprise and Beckett raised her eyebrows at his reaction. "Of course you know about it," he amended, muttering to himself, "What were we thinking?"

"They're good though," she conceded. "It took me a few days before I was able to spot them."

"But why didn't you say something or try to call them off like you usually do?" Ryan questioned her.

She shrugged lightly, trying to act nonchalant. "Someone shot me, in the middle of a crowd full of cops… I thought it might be a good idea to have a few extra eyes on my back for a while."

She finished the rest of her coffee and stood up. "Keep looking into that wig. I know it's not much to go on but maybe we'll get lucky." She placed the files on her desk and switched off her computer, turning as she grabbed her phone and keys to find Castle standing beside her.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to go talk to the shrink, but first, I've got a lunch date." She noticed the spark of intrigue in his eyes but before he could ask Esposito called out to her, "Tell Lanie I said 'hey'."

Ryan nearly choked on his cappuccino as he snorted in laughter and his partner turned to scowl at him.

"What?"

Ryan smirked even as he wiped at the splotches of spilled coffee on his tie. "All those comments you made about me and Jenny…well, who's the whipped one now?"

"You're both whipped," Beckett informed them and tossed an extra napkin at Ryan as she walked by, her lips twisting into an amused smile.

"Yeah, well, we're not the only ones," Esposito said and they watched Castle scamper off toward the elevator in Beckett's wake.

…

Later that afternoon, after a quick lunch and some long overdue girl talk with Lanie, Kate entered the lobby of a building a few blocks away from the Medical Examiner's office and headed for the elevator. The sound of her flats on the tile at her feet was barely audible and for a moment she found herself missing the clicking sound her heels usually made. A quick glance at the sign next to the elevator told her that Dr. Persinette's office was on the eighth floor.

She had picked Dr. Persinette from the department's list of approved psychologists for no reason other than she had the earliest available appointment and Kate wanted this over and done with as soon as possible.

Kate had spent more than her fair share of time in therapy. It had been Montgomery's doing actually. He had called her in for a meeting about a year after the night they'd met down in Records. He told her he had been following her progress and he thought she had what it took to be a great detective but if she wanted that to happen she needed to find a way to deal with her personal demons before she could start hunting down other people's. She spent several years attending weekly therapy sessions, more than enough time to learn that sometimes psychologists could be helpful and sometimes you just had to tell them what they were hoping to hear.

The elevator dinged when it reached the eighth floor and as the doors slid open she saw that the psychologist's office was directly opposite. With a deep breath she headed toward it.

"Hi there, can I help you?" the receptionist asked, peering up over the glasses perched on the end of her nose.

"I'm Kate Beckett. I have an appointment with Dr. Persinette."

"Yep, here you are," she said clicking open a file on her computer. "It's your first time here so we've got some forms for you to sign." She slid a clipboard and pen across the counter to Kate and gave her an overly sweet smile. "Have a seat, fill those out and bring 'em back up to me when you're done."

Kate turned away from the window and made her way into the waiting area. It was filled with several brown faux-leather armchairs, three of which were already occupied. A fake tree of some unidentifiable species sat in the corner, its plastic leaves in need of a dusting. Several ocean themed paintings hung on the pale blue walls and the single window overlooked an alley with an overflowing dumpster. She knew blue was supposed to have a calming affect but this shade reminded her of the color of the walls in her high school cafeteria. Definitely not a comforting or calming environment.

She could feel the eyes of the others on her as she sat down next to the dusty tree and started filling out the forms. It was a feeling she remembered well from her previous experience in psychologists' waiting rooms. People either kept their heads down and their eyes averted or they openly assessed the newcomer, studying her, trying to figure out why she was there. It was like they thought that if they looked closely enough they could figure out what had brought her here and what was going on inside her head.

She filled out and returned the forms and spent ten long minutes staring at the plant's dusty leaves. The image of Polina Bancroft's body kept coming back into her mind and try as she might, she couldn't block the memories of the ugly red stripe around her neck or the brunette wig covering her blonde hair. And damn it if from now on she was going to think of Jerry Tyson every time she picked up her copy of _Heat Wave _and read Castle's dedication.

What the hell was Tyson trying to do? Why now and why was he changing his act? And how long would it be before they got the call about his next victim?

"Kate Beckett." She looked up, her thoughts interrupted. A door at the back of the waiting room had opened and a middle aged woman with long, golden blonde hair was waiting for her. She held out her hand as Kate approached and introduced herself.

"Detective Beckett, I'm Dr. Persinette. Please come in."

The doctor led her into the office and shut the door behind them.

"Have a seat," she said gesturing to two more brown faux-leather armchairs angled toward each other opposite a large oak desk. Kate sank into one of the chairs and looked around. The walls in here were a deep pine green. One side of the room was dedicated to a large set of bookshelves and the other side to a row of filing cabinets. Two framed diplomas hung on the wall behind the desk where Dr. Persinette was gathering a thick file and notebook. She settled herself in the chair beside Kate, opening to a blank page in the notebook and uncapping her pen.

"The precinct sent over a copy of your file," she said as she caught Kate eyeing it curiously. "And don't worry, all cops have files this thick. It's not like criminals'."

Kate nodded, "Right."

"So, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she replied quickly. The response, whether true or not, had become automatic.

Dr. Persinette raised her eyebrows skeptically. "You were shot six weeks ago."

"Yes, but I'm feeling much better now."

"That's good to hear." She smiled and made a quick note on her papers.

"The person who shot you hasn't been caught?" she asked when she looked up again.

"No, not yet."

"And you don't know who they are or why they wanted to kill you?"

Kate shook her head and shrugged. "Some people just don't like cops."

The doctor didn't respond. She was quiet for a moment watching Kate. Finally she nodded once and moved on.

"So, what have you been doing with all your free time?"

Kate shrugged again. "Reading, watching movies and TV…sleeping…"

"And have you been by yourself or has someone been staying with you?"

She waited a moment before answering, knowing where this would be going. "My boyfriend was staying with me."

"Was?" Dr. Persinette arched a well groomed eyebrow at her.

"He's not my boyfriend anymore," Kate said lightly.

"Oh? Since when?"

"Day before yesterday," she admitted and watched the blonde woman's pen fly across the lines of her notebook.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, her hand still moving across the page.

Kate shook her head. "There's not much to talk about."

Dr. Persinette looked up at her again, her eyebrows pinched together. "How long were you together?"

"Almost a year." She resisted the urge to cross her arms, sure the psychologist knew all about reading body language.

"Forgive me for saying this," the doctor said as she leaned back in her chair and fixed her eyes on Kate's, "but you don't seem very upset about this."

"That's because I'm not upset. Josh and I should have reached our end a lot sooner than we did."

"Why did you break up?"

"I didn't love him and he realized that."

"Why did you stay with a man you didn't love for almost a year?"

Kate took a deep breath, searching for words to explain. She had really liked Josh and when they met he'd seemed like everything she was looking for but what she had wanted then wasn't what she wanted now, wasn't what she wanted forever.

"He's a really good guy and I really liked him. I thought maybe I could love him but…I didn't."

Dr. Persinette was quiet for a moment, watching her before her eyes drifted back down to the file in her lap. She turned a page slowly.

"So, tell me why you want to go back to work early when you're still recovering." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, fixing her eyes on Kate.

"There's a serial killer," Kate started, speaking quickly, knowing it was all in her file anyway. "He's called the Triple Killer but his name is really Jerry Tyson. Five years ago he killed six women and last year he used our investigation to get out of prison and disappear. He made a deal with his cellmate, taught him what he needed to know to pose as the Triple Killer and Tyson pretended to help us catch him. His plan almost worked and Tyson almost got away with it but Castle figured it out. He still got away, but Castle ruined his plan and now he's back and I don't know what he's planning but he killed another woman two nights ago and dedicated the murder to all of us."

She paused and took a deep breath, trying to keep the anger out of her voice as the image of Polina Bancroft's body stretched out on her couch filled her mind.

"I want to go back to work so that we can catch him and put him away for good this time where he won't be able to hurt any more women ever again."

Dr. Persinette nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Tell me about Castle," she said, catching Kate by surprise.

"Castle… he's interesting," she offered, unable to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up into a small smile and she could tell the doctor was intrigued.

"Interesting?"

"And surprising."

"Surprising how?"

"At first I thought he was just going to be an annoyance, but as a writer he sees the world differently than we do as cops and that different perspective has actually proven to be useful."

The doctor arched an eyebrow at her again. "So useful that you now consider him your partner even though he has no formal training and no official authorization?"

"It's unorthodox but yes, he's part of the team."

"And he writes these books based on your team?"

"Inspired by not based on," Kate corrected her.

"Yes, right." She reached into a bag by her desk and pulled out two books Kate recognized immediately. For a brief second Castle's image smiled at her from the back cover. "I've been reading these. They are quite…interesting… It's clear Mr. Castle holds you in very high esteem."

There was a glimmer of suggestion in Dr. Persinette's expression that didn't sit well with Kate.

"Look, I can tell what you're thinking and you're wrong," she said firmly, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. "We're friends but our relationship has always been based on our professional roles. There's nothing else going on between us."

"Actually," Dr. Persinette said, her lips twitching slightly as she held back a smile, "I was going to ask you about the other members of your team, Detectives Esposito and Ryan."

"Oh." Kate tucked her hair behind her ear, embarrassed by her sudden leap to defend her relationship with Castle. "What about them?"

"Have you kept in touch with them while you've been out?"

"Yes."

"And how do they seem to be dealing with your Captain's death?" she asked gently. "I know you were all particularly close to him."

"They're fine. They're doing as well as can be expected."

The doctor nodded and jotted another notation in her notebook.

"Why are you asking about them?" Kate asked curiously, watching as the doctor continued writing.

"Just to get an idea of your relationships with your colleagues. I need to know if you'll have the support you need if you go back to work early."

"I will," Kate told her, shortly and matter-of-factly. "Ryan and Esposito are the best."

Dr. Persinette nodded slowly and clicked the cap back onto her pen.

"And how do you think you're dealing with everything that has happened to you recently?"

The doctor was watching her carefully and Kate stared back at her.

"I think I'm doing okay," she said slowly and a moment passed in silence before Dr. Persinette spoke again.

"Your training officer was killed just a short while ago and only a few weeks later your Captain was killed while you were investigating a possible lead in the case of your mother's murder and then you were shot at his funeral. That's a lot that's happened in a short period of time and now you want to go back to work early to hunt down a serial killer who eluded you the last time. Your department needs to know that you can handle this."

Kate's voice was firm but calm when she spoke. "I am dealing with everything and I can handle it. In my line of work we deal with death every day and sometimes it's someone you know and sometimes it comes close to being you, but you can't just stop and put everything on hold while you deal with it. I'm not saying that we're immune to it or that we just ignore it but we learn to separate our emotions from the job at hand and right now the job is finding Jerry Tyson before he can strangle any more women and the best bet for that happening is having me on the team hunting him because I know this case and I know what he is capable of."

Dr. Persinette was quiet for a while, flipping through the pages of her notebook and the papers in the files. Finally she looked back up at Kate.

"Well, you're record is excellent and your performance reviews have been consistently highly satisfactory. Captain Montgomery wrote in his reports several times that you're the best detective he ever trained and one of the best cops he ever knew. So taking your history into account with our talk here today, I'm going to recommend that you are cleared to return to duty."

Kate let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Thank you Dr. Persinette."

"But, Kate, let me offer you a word of caution. I can see that you are determined to catch this serial killer, just like you are determined to find justice for your mother and for all the other victims you meet in your job. That determination is admirable but you have to know when and how to step back. You have an important job but your job shouldn't be your entire life. You need balance. I've talked to a lot of law enforcement officials over the years and I've see far too many determined, young cops like yourself burn out before their time. That fire you have that fuels your need for justice is a good thing but you have to keep it contained and under control. Don't let it overwhelm you and make you reckless."

…

Late afternoon traffic tie-ups forced her to take several detours on her way back to the precinct. Summer in the city and the drivers were always at their worst. She breathed a deep sigh of relief when she finally stepped into the elevator and enjoyed the brief moments of quiet solitude as she rode up to Homicide's floor.

Ryan's head popped up from the report in front of him as soon as she pulled out her chair to sit down at her desk.

"Hey, how'd it go with the shrink?"

"All clear," she said with a satisfied smile, "I'm back."

"Good." Ryan grinned back at her. "Not that we were worried or anything."

"Yeah, we knew you'd be back," Esposito added, pushing off his desk in a practiced move so that his chair rolled to a perfect stop just beside Ryan's desk.

"And while you were having a nice chat with the doc, we found something interesting."

Beckett watched the partners' self-congratulatory fist bump with an arched eyebrow, waiting.

"Well, what did you find?"

"We were trying to track down the wig's manufacturer," Esposito began, "but we weren't getting anywhere."

"But then we had an idea," Ryan said, jumping in. "Instead of trying to determine who made the wig, we decided to look into where Tyson may have gotten the wig. Even in New York City there aren't that many places where you can walk in and buy a wig, just a handful of specialty shops and costume shops."

Esposito took over. "We got them all checking their records, but in the meantime we realized that there is a whole industry here that uses wigs, all those theater shows and movies and whatnot. They have to get the wigs from somewhere."

"Which led us to this," Ryan said, tapping the report on his desk.

Beckett was starting to get impatient. "And that is?" she asked, looking to Esposito for an answer.

"The break-in report filed last month by the manager of Empire Prop House."

Beckett's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The place Marcus Gates worked at?"

"The very same," Ryan confirmed and handed the report across the desks to her.

She quickly flipped passed the photos of the jimmied back door trying to find the list of items stolen. "Did he take anything else?"

"As far as the manager could tell just the wigs and about $250 in petty cash but their inventory system is about as efficient as their security system. There might be other things missing but they haven't discovered them yet."

She lifted her head from the report, her shrewd eyes searching his face. "Did you say _wigs,_ as in plural?"

Both partners nodded, their expressions solemn.

"How many?"

"Six," Esposito told her, "Their entire stock of that style."

The three detectives were all quiet for a moment, the easygoing tone of their conversation had slipped away and the cold reality of what they were discussing had come back around to seize them. Jerry Tyson had stolen six wigs from the prop house and they could all imagine far too well what his plans for the remaining five were.

Beckett sighed and passed the report back to Ryan.

"Good work you guys. Guess, it looks like I'm taking a trip up to Sing Sing tomorrow morning to have a little chat with Marcus Gates."

"Better tell your Volunteer Assistant Homicide Detective to have your coffee ready bright and early then," Esposito said with a teasing glint returning to his eyes.

She shot a glare full of affected annoyance at him as he rolled himself back to his desk but grabbed her phone anyway, hitting that familiar speed dial number.

"Hey Castle."

…

The phone rattling on his nightstand slowly woke Castle from a deep sleep early the next morning. He sluggishly rolled over and reached a heavy arm out for it, fumbling a few times before he was able to grasp it. He pried his eyes open and blinked at the phone until the words on the screen came into focus. It was 5:27 and Beckett was calling.

He brought the phone to his ear and answered sleepily, mumbling, "Beckett, too early. You said 7:30."

Her voice was loud and sharp on the other end, immediately clearing away his lethargic fog. "Get up, Castle," she ordered. "We're not going to Sing Sing. We've got another body. I'll pick you up in fifteen."

* * *

><p><em>Less than 24 hours to the premiere! Rejoice Castle fans! <em>

_As always, thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying this. _


	4. Page 77

_It took me so much longer to finish this chapter than I was hoping it would. I'm sorry. Things like life and the need to sleep can be so distracting sometimes. But here it is now and it's a long one. Thank you to those of you reading and taking the time to review. I really appreciate you sharing your thoughts. _

_Reminder: This is set after Knockout, sometime during the summer, but now that the new season has started it's AU. _

_Also, I still do not own _Castle _nor do I own _Heat Wave_. _

* * *

><p>The scene in Hannah Orlov's living room was eerily similar to that of Polina Bancroft's less than seventy-two hours earlier, but instead of blue and red lights flashing through the darkness, warm rays of early morning sunlight were slipping through the slats of the blinds. Tiny specks of dust danced and sparkled in the illuminated air as the crime scene technicians quietly and efficiently went about their jobs snapping photos, bagging potential evidence and dusting for fingerprints. The three detectives and Castle stood in silence behind Lanie as she knelt next to the couch, carefully examining the young woman's body.<p>

Hannah Orlov's blonde curls were covered by another wavy, brunette wig and the V-neck of her black tee-shirt clearly showed the bright streak of reddened skin around her throat. The dark lashes of her closed eyes cast soft shadows over her lightly bronzed skin and her arms cradled another copy of _Heat Wave_, holding it against her stomach.

They watched as Lanie gently moved Hannah's arms aside and picked up the book, opening to the dedication page. Tyson had made his edits again, the crimson letters of Castle's initials and the Triple Killer signature stood out brightly against the creamy white page and black typeface.

Lanie glanced over her shoulder, briefly making eye contact with Kate before turning back and placing the book in an evidence bag. Through the clear plastic they could see that Castle's photo on the back cover was obscured by a stain of dark, burgundy blood that had spilled from the bullet hole Tyson put in Hannah Orlov after he strangled her.

Kate felt a faint twinge of pain from her own shooting as she stepped away from the others and crossed the room to examine the large photo collage on the opposite wall. Pictures of various types of scenery and architecture were mixed in with images of a beautiful young woman with a broad smile and bright, sparkling hazel eyes, surrounded by friends and family and on her own in hiking gear on a windblown mountaintop, riding an elephant through a jungle and walking down a dusty, sundrenched, empty street. It was hard to reconcile her vibrant existence in these photos with the lifeless victim on the other side of the room.

Castle had followed her across the room and she now felt Ryan and Esposito step up beside her. She turned to them.

"Who found her?" she asked quietly.

"Neighbor across the hall," Ryan supplied, tipping his head toward a distraught looking man with dark rimmed glasses standing with an officer in the kitchen. "Ms. Orlov sometimes takes care of his cat when he goes out of town. He came over early this morning to ask her and when he knocked he noticed the door wasn't shut all the way. He came in to check on her and found her like that."

"And what do we know about her?"

"She's a freelance journalist and photographer. Her latest project was in Afghanistan. She got back three weeks ago," Esposito said, tapping a pen against his notepad as he continued. "According to the neighbor she also has a blog that's gotten pretty popular lately. She mostly covers human rights and activism topics but apparently she's stirred up some controversy recently and people have been writing some not so nice things in their comments." He glanced over his shoulder at the man in the kitchen. "He thinks she got killed because of something she wrote."

They all glanced toward the kitchen again at the devastated man staring blankly at the tiled floor. He was more upset than neighbors of murder victims usually were in this city. He clearly cared a great deal about his neighbor and, judging by the way he looked like his world had just been shattered, Kate would have bet that he had even been in love with her.

She turned her attention back to Ryan as he spoke, "He says she's friendly but she mostly keeps to herself around here, prefers to keep her apartment as a quiet workspace, doesn't have many visitors."

"Did he see her at all last night?"

"No, but when he got home around 8:30 he almost crashed into a guy in the stairwell. Says he always takes the stairs and he usually never sees anyone else in there. They nearly collided at the door of the landing for this floor."

Ryan paused and Esposito jumped in.

"He didn't get a good look at him, he was on the phone and the guy was wearing a hat, but he remembers this guy dropping something metal and hurrying to pick it up. He didn't pay much attention at the time but now he thinks it may have been a badge."

His eyes quickly flicked sideways to his partner for a moment before he continued.

"There are no signs of forced entry so we're thinking he showed her the badge and she let him in or at least opened the door for him."

Kate nodded in agreement. Now that Tyson had a badge he could forgo the gas leak and cable repairman routine. Most people would open their doors for a cop with a badge. That metal shield was supposed to be a sign that they could trust them.

"Excuse me, Detectives." They all turned as the young, blond CSU tech approached them, seeming a bit apprehensive to be addressing all of them at once. "I found this under the sofa," he said, holding up an evidence bag with an easily recognizable yellow Metro Card inside. "I don't think it was the victim's. I checked and she already has one in her wallet. I overheard you saying she didn't have a lot of visitors so I thought maybe it's the killer's and he lost it while he was, you know, killing her."

Kate took the bag from him, smoothing the plastic over the card as she examined it. It was still in good condition and judging by the expiration date, it had been purchased fairly recently.

"Right, thanks Bradford." She gave him a quick smile as he turn away, eager to get back to work, and her sharp gaze surveyed the room again, looking for anything to jump out that she may have missed before. When she found nothing she faced her boys again.

"Alright, put Tyson in a photo lineup and get the neighbor to come down and take a look and let's run that Metro Card and see who it might belong to and where they've been."

The partners headed for the kitchen and Kate turned her attention to Castle who had been uncharacteristically quiet all morning. He had stepped away a moment ago and was now standing in front of the photo collage again. As she stepped up beside him she saw that his gaze had landed on a picture of Hannah and her neighbor laughing as they held his cat between them, all three wearing sparkly party hats.

"I wonder if she knew," Castle mused out loud, his voice low and contemplative.

"That he loved her?" Kate asked and he turned to look at her, his eyes already full of sadness showed a hint of surprise and he nodded.

"Yeah," she replied confidently. "She's a woman. Even if she didn't know for certain, I'm sure she at least had a suspicion."

An odd look crossed his face and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again an instant later, simply nodding instead. His gaze stayed on her though, intent and focused like he was trying to decipher something in her eyes.

After a moment she forced herself to look away, tucking an errant wave behind her ear as she examined the photos once again.

It was impossible to ignore the pang of sorrow she felt at the thought that there would be no more photos of happy memories to add to the collection. Jerry Tyson had seen to that.

…

…

The guy standing in front of Alexis in line had a piece of blue chewing gum stuck to the back of his shirt. It was disgusting but she couldn't stop staring at it. The angel on her shoulder told her in a loud, confident voice of someone who was used to having her orders followed, that she should let him know it was there. Anyone would want to know if they had a piece of gum stuck on their clothes and if he sat down it was going to be somebody else's problem as well. But the devil on her other shoulder had been listening to the guy's phone conversation as he loudly bragged to his friend about the girl he'd lied to and then hooked up with last night. The devil was whispering slyly to her that he really didn't deserve to be told. In fact, the right thing to do would be to use that piece of gum to stick a warning sign on him. _Caution! This guy is a jerk. Keep back 200 feet. _

"Wow. Art History, Criminology and Psychology." Alexis was pulled out of her internal battle between good and evil and turned to find the man behind her craning his neck to see the titles of the books she was carrying.

"Are you interested in all those subjects?" he asked, his eyes moving from the books in her arms to her face briefly, before following the lengths of her hair hanging in front of her shoulder.

"Um, yeah." She clutched the books closer to her chest. There was something weird about the way this man was looking at her. It wasn't the way men sometimes looked at her, checking her out when they thought she wouldn't notice. Instead, the way his cold, dark eyes couldn't seem to settle in one place for long made her feel like he was trying to memorize her. It was like he was drinking in all of her details or imagining her somewhere else. It sent a chill down her spine.

As the line moved forward, Alexis angled herself away from him, hoping he would take the not so subtle hint to leave her alone.

He didn't.

"Do you have a favorite class?" he asked, stepping farther forward to stand beside her in the line.

"Not yet." She looked at him quickly before glancing around. His Yankee's hat, scruffy beard, grey T-shirt and jeans weren't uncommon at a coffee shop at the University but he was out of place and it was what he was lacking that made him stand out. Everyone here was either a student or a professor and they all had a backpack or bag like her own to carry their books and papers and computers. This man didn't have anything with him.

"Are you a student here?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, no." He smiled at her but it only made his dark eyes look more severe. "No, I just really like their coffee."

She looked away again and got one last glimpse of the blue gum before it's owner got his coffee and walked away.

The man didn't say anything else as Alexis placed her order and waited but she could feel his eyes on her hair again. She pulled out her wallet and wished that instead of her computer bag she'd brought her purse which had the pepper spray her father had insisted she carry with her when he started working with Detective Beckett. She didn't like it but she had to admit it would have been a comfort to have it with her now. At least she'd be able to get away from him once she got her coffee and bagel.

"Here, let me get that for you," he said suddenly, reaching out to hand some money to the girl behind the counter.

"No. It's fine. I've got it." Alexis said forcefully, handing over her own cash. The girl raised her eyebrows at them, then took Alexis's money and told her it would be another minute for her bagel to toast.

"I guess you should enjoy it while your dad can still pay for you." The man's voice was low with an icy tone to it and she swung around to face him, her heart pounding.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"Nothing." He shook his head and shrugged. "You're young and you should enjoy having your dad around to take care of you before you have bills and stuff of your own to worry about." He spoke lightly but the hard glint in his eyes sent goose bumps up and down her arms.

She grabbed her bagel and tossed it on top of her stack of books, no longer feeling remotely hungry. She picked up her coffee and turned to leave, just wanting to get out of there and away from him as quickly as possible. A knot of worry was twisting her stomach and she wasn't even sure exactly what it was she was so worried about.

"Have a really nice day, Alexis." At the sound of her name she spun back around, ready to run or scream or throw her hot coffee in his face.

"Your bracelet," he said, nodding at her hand holding the coffee. She glanced at her wrist and the silver beads spelling out her name, but she could feel the knot in her stomach twisting even more and a tingling on the back of her neck telling her to get out now. She backed away from him before turning and hurrying out the door, nearly colliding with the people coming in.

She sped down the street, swerving around people, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the shop, or more exactly, between herself and the creepy man in the coffee shop. She only paused long enough to toss the coffee and bagel in a trash can and hurried on, fumbling to remove her bracelet and keep ahold of her books. It felt tainted now and she shoved it to the bottom of her bag, hoping she would be able to forget about the entire unnerving experience. The bracelet had been a gift from her mother and Meredith would never know if she never wore it again.

Before she turned the corner, Alexis looked back at the coffee shop and could see the man standing outside drinking his coffee, and although she couldn't be exactly sure what he was looking at, she thought she could feel his eyes on her once more, watching her walk away.

…

…

Beckett leaned back in her chair and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel the faint pounding of an oncoming headache behind her eyes. The early start to the day was catching up with her already. She needed coffee. And speaking of coffee…

"Have you guys seen Castle?" she asked Ryan and Esposito. The two detectives' eyes went to the empty chair beside her desk and then glanced around the bullpen, shrugging and shaking their heads.

She and Castle had talked to Hannah Orlov's parents when they arrived the precinct earlier. Mr. and Mrs. Orlov had been understandably inconsolable and Castle had disappeared sometime after they left. Talking to the family of the victim was one of the hardest parts of her job and when the victim was someone's child it was even harder. Castle never said anything but she knew that with his imagination and his ability to empathize that those interviews with parents got to him. He was never more than a few seconds away from imagining himself in their place.

She thought he had gone to wander the precinct and regroup but nearly an hour had passed since the Orlov's left and still Castle was nowhere to be found.

Kate grabbed her phone and empty coffee mug and headed for the break room. Thankfully it was empty and she hit Castle's speed dial as she refilled the water in the coffeemaker.

"Castle? Where'd you go?" she asked when he answered.

"I'm at Penny's," he told her and she could hear the familiar jingle of the bell over the front door in the background. "I didn't have any breakfast and I know you probably didn't either so I figured it was time we eat something. And real food, not whatever we could scavenge at the precinct."

"Okay," she agreed and flipped the coffeemaker back off again, her mouth suddenly watering at the thought of Penny's special blend coffee and fluffy blueberry muffins. She glanced at her desk and made a snap decision. "Meet me at the car when you get back. We're going to see Lanie."

"Did she find something?" he asked hopefully.

Kate sighed. "Not yet but I can't stand sitting around here waiting anymore."

"Okay, I'll be there in five minutes."

…

…

Half an hour later, after a quick breakfast in the car and a harder than usual search for a parking space, they arrived at the Medical Examiner's office.

Kate's phone chimed multiple times as they pushed through the first set of swinging doors heading to the morgue.

"I must not have had any service in the garage," she said as she dug it out of her pocket. She stopped a moment to check the missed calls and then raised worried eyes to meet Castle's.

"Lanie called a bunch of times and sent a 911 text."

In an instant they set off again hurrying down the hallway. Kate's phone rang again as she shoved open the door to the morgue with such force it bounced off the wall behind it with a loud bang and nearly smacked Castle in the face as he followed closely behind her.

Lanie spun around at the noise, her cellphone pressed to one ear and the morgue's landline to the other. "They just got here," she said quickly and hung up both phones. The landline fell out of its cradle and clattered on the desk but she ignored it and moved towards them, her eyes wide and her cellphone gripped tightly in her hand.

"Before you panic, they're already tracking her phone and they've got guys heading to your place right now," she told them, her wide eyes darting back and forth between them.

"What are you talking about, Lanie?" Kate asked her in startled confusion. "What's going on?"

"Alexis," Lanie said and her fearful eyes settled on Castle.

"What?" he gasped, his hands already fumbling through his pockets for his phone. Kate could feel the coffee and muffin she'd just eaten churning in her stomach as it twisted into knots of fear.

Her hand shot out to grip Lanie's arm. "What do you mean 'Alexis'? What is going on?" she asked, desperately seeking an explanation.

Lanie grabbed an evidence bag off the desk and held it out to them with shaking hands. "I found this when I was stripping the body. It was stuck inside her bra."

Kate took the bag from her friend, her own hands shaking now as she looked at what she was holding. It was part of a page torn from a book but someone had written diagonally over the printed text in bright red marker:

_Blondes- tried and true but perhaps it's time to spice things up a bit. Maybe try a touch of ginger? It can't be that hard to find a pretty, young redhead in New York City._

Kate felt terror blossoming in her chest and beside her Castle let out a quiet, shaky moan, "Oh my god, Alexis."

She turned to see that all the color had drained out of his face. Even his eyes looked paler than usual. They were wide and horrified, searching her face for an explanation and hope as he pressed his phone to his ear again.

"She's not answering. Oh god, why isn't she answering?" he asked her imploringly. "Kate, if he… if she's…."

She reached out and grabbed the forearm of his freehand, squeezing tightly and forcing herself to breathe and ignore the almost painful pounding of her own terrified heart. She squeezed his arm again so that his wild gaze locked on her face.

"I know, Castle, I know," she said, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing. "Just think, where is she? What was she doing today?"

Her thumb rubbed small, calming circles against the tensed muscles of his arm and she could practically see his mind turning as her words sunk in.

"She...she's not at home. She has class. She's taking those summer classes at NYU. She's supposed to be there all day."

Out of the corner of her eye Kate could see that Lanie was already on the phone telling Esposito to go to the university and she kept her eyes locked on her partner's.

"Ok, she has class. That's why she's not answering. She's a good student, a good kid, she follows rules so she probably put her phone on silent during class."

He nodded but hit redial again, still trying to reach his daughter. "She's a good kid," he repeated, "She's such a good kid."

"I know she is," Kate told him and smiled, the muscles in her face fighting through the tension to make her lips curve. "But Castle, I need you to do something for me, okay?" she asked, her grip on his arm tightening again.

He nodded numbly.

"I need you to hang up and I need you to download that app that lets you GPS track Alexis's phone again right now."

She saw his confusion quickly turn to comprehension and his eyes lit up as he finally pulled his gaze and arm away from her, his trembling fingers flying over the screen of his phone.

Lanie was still on the phone with Esposito. Kate turned to her and quietly asked, "How far away are they?"

"About three minutes," Lanie told her. "They're having a hard time getting an exact location with the department's GPS tracking system. It's taking too long. Is that one going to be faster?"

"Yeah, yeah, here, I got it," Castle said quickly, breathlessly, handing his phone to Lanie. "That's it. That's where she is!"

They both watched, barely breathing, as Lanie relayed the information. Castle stood close beside her and Kate could feel him trembling where his arm was pressed against hers. Without giving it more than a split second of thought she reached out for him and grasped his hand with hers. His palm was damp with cool sweat but she didn't care, just twined her fingers with his and tightened her grip.

"They're pulling up to the building right now," Lanie informed them. "Do you know what class she's in?"

"I, um…It's Art History or Psychology. I don't know which one is meeting now."

"You got that?" Lanie spoke into the phone, "Yeah, okay." She lowered the phone and ended the call. "They're going in now. Said they'd call when they've got her."

Castle's hand shook in hers as he took his cell back from Lanie. He stared at the screen, his eyes fixed on the blue triangle representing his daughter's phone.

The morgue was silent around its three living souls, anxious energy zinging along their nerves but they didn't move. They were frozen in place, waiting.

After a minute that felt like an eternity, Castle looked away from his phone and up at Kate, his face ashen as he suddenly struggled to breathe.

"What if she's not there?" he gasped, his desperate gaze piercing her. "What if he just left her phone there for us to find or…Or what if he already got to her and she's…she's-"

"No, Castle, stop. Don't think that." She squeezed his hand as hard as she could, her nails digging into his skin, giving him a physical pain to distract his mind.

"She's going to be fine, Castle," she reassured him, trying to make herself believe her own words. "Ryan and Esposito will get her and they'll bring her home or bring her to the 12th, okay?"

His grip on her hand tightened, clinging to her, but he nodded and was able to draw a deep breath into his panicked lungs. "The 12th. I want to see her."

Kate nodded and whispered, "Okay."

The still, tension-filled silence settled over them again and their eyes darted between one another and Castle's phone. Lanie's arms were crossed over her chest, her fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on her elbow. Castle's grip on Kate's hand was as strong as ever. She could feel the curves of his nails poking her skin as he waited for a phone call that could potentially shatter his world.

Over the sound of her pounding, scared heart and rushing blood, Kate became aware of a faint clicking noise. It took her a moment to realize that it was her own foot tapping anxiously on the cold tiles and forced herself still.

They all jumped a moment later when Kate's phone rang loud and shrill through the stark silence. It nearly slipped through her fingers as she hurried to answer, putting it on speaker in the process.

Esposito's voice crackled over the speaker. "Yo, it's us. We found her. We're outside the classroom right now and she's fine."

Castle's shaky moan of relief reverberated off the hard surfaces of the room. He scrubbed his free hand over his face and raked it through his hair. His fingers relaxed in Kate's but his hold on her hand remained strong.

Kate could feel her own relief bubbling up inside her threatening to spill over in a laugh. She met Castle's eyes again, smiling at the way his hair was sticking up now.

"The class is supposed to get out soon," Esposito told them. "We'll wait and bring her back with us."

"Okay, thank you Esposito," Kate said gratefully. She hung up and took a deep breath, letting it back out slowly.

"God, why does she have to be such an overachiever sometimes?" Castle asked with an exasperated groan. "Why can't she just be a normal teenager sleeping till noon everyday all summer in our secure building? She has four years of college to figure out her major. She doesn't have to decide now before she even goes."

"Because she's your daughter," Kate told him with a smile. "She's never going to be just a normal teenager."

He chuckled lightly and nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"Is Martha still in the Hamptons?"

"Yeah, yeah she is but I think she's supposed to be coming home tonight," he said, his brow creasing in concern again.

"It might be a good idea to try to convince her to stay a while longer and have Alexis go too."

He nodded and gave her hand a final squeeze before dropping it and stepping away to make the call.

Kate watched him for a moment till out of the corner of her eye she noticed the white sheet covering Hannah Orlov's body and remembered why they had come to the morgue in the first place.

"Did you find anything else?" she asked Lanie, tilting her head toward the sheet.

"Not yet. That note was the only unexpected thing. So far everything else is the same as the other- the rope fibers, the bullet; even time of death was similar, sometime between 6:00 and 8:00 last night."

Lanie glanced across the room and Kate followed her gaze. Castle ended his phone call and slipped the phone into his pocket. He stood still for a moment, his back to them, before furiously rubbing his palms against his eyes. His shoulders shook as he took one deep breath after another trying to calm the adrenaline and nauseating anxiety still coursing through him.

Lanie's elbow nudged her arm and she turned back to her friend.

"Someone needs to give that man a hug," she said with a twinkle in her eye and a quirk of her brow that told Kate she meant something other than a friendly, partnerly hug. "And I think that someone should be you."

"Yeah, maybe later," Kate replied, ignoring her friend's raised eyebrows. She stepped away and picked up the plastic enclosed note from where she had placed it on an empty metal autopsy table earlier.

Only the red, handwritten, veiled threat had registered when she read it earlier but she looked at it more closely now and saw that it was part of a page torn out of _Heat Wave._ The page had clearly been chosen on purpose, not just ripped out at random. It was the scene in which the Russian muscle Pochenko tried to strangle Nikki, a subject that clearly resonated with Jerry Tyson. She read it through quickly, trying to ignore the way the red marker had blotted out some of Castle's words.

_Heat Wave_

_off his nose and chin onto her face, waterboarding her. She flailed her head side to side and took swipes at him with her right hand, but his choke was sapping her strength. _

_Fog crept into the edges of her vision. Above her, Pochenko's determined face became dappled by a shower of tiny shooting stars. He was taking his time, watching her lungs slowly lose oxygen, feeling her weaken, seeing her head flails become less rapid. _

_Nikki rolled her head to the side so she wouldn't have to look at him. She thought of her mother, murdered three feet away on this very floor, calling her name. And as blackness drew over her, Nikki thought how sad that she had no name to call for._

It was cut off there, a jagged edge of ripped paper before Nikki was able to grab the iron and get away.

A wave of intense hatred passed through Kate as she stood there holding the torn page. Tyson was using Castle's own words to put images in their minds, modeling his victims after her, threatening his daughter, all because Castle had figured out his plan. He hadn't even really ruined the plan. Tyson had still gotten away and he could have stayed gone. But he had chosen to comeback, seemingly intent on exacting revenge.

"You know what would be really great?" Castle's voice asked from beside her. He was looking down at the page in her hands, a small curl of disgust pulling at his upper lip.

She turned to him, noticing the muscle twitching along his clenched jaw. "What?"

"If you could iron Tyson's face when we catch him," he said, attempting to keep his voice light. "It'd be even better if you could be naked while you do it." He grinned at her but it was stiff and the glint in his eye wasn't his usual playful sparkle. It was something dark and serious, a need for vengeance she wished she could erase. Castle wasn't a vengeful person. He was the lightness in her world full of death and the worst things people could do to one another. He was smiles and jokes and ridiculous theories, the one trying to hold on to her when her need for the truth and justice for her mother overwhelmed her senses.

So she forced herself to act like it was any other suggestive comment from him, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "I think I'll leave the naked ironing to Nikki Heat. I'd much rather just shoot him."

"Yeah, that'd work too."

She laid her hand briefly on his arm. "Come on, let's head back to the precinct, see Alexis."

Castle nodded at the mention of his daughter's name, already heading for the door in quick, long strides.

"Call me if you find anything else," Kate requested to Lanie before hurrying to catch up with him in the hallway outside the morgue.

…

…

"Sorry about that," Castle said, nodding at her hand as they pulled out of the parking garage a few minutes later. She glanced at her hand on the wheel and saw that the red crescent-shaped indentations from his nails were still visible on her skin.

Her eyes flicked from the road back to where he sat beside her. He was still tense, his hands clenched in fists and she could see the marks from her own nails on him.

She echoed him. "Sorry about that."

He looked down, seemingly surprised to see the small arcs on his skin as well. He traced his thumb over the marks gently, not trying to rub them away.

"Do you think he'd really go after her?" Castle asked, his gaze hard as he looked down the street in front of them. "Was it just an empty threat to torment us or do you think he might actually try to get to her?"

"I…I don't know," she answered truthfully and sighed. "He's changing things and I don't know what to expect from him anymore."

Castle nodded and was quiet for a moment. When he spoke his voice was full of frustration. "He's writing the rules to his game as he goes along and we just have to keep playing and hope we do something right. We have no game plan, no strategy. We're just reacting to his moves and he's always two steps ahead. How are we going to win when we don't even really know what this game is? It's…..It's not fair."

"You know better than to expect psychopathic serial killers to play fair, Castle. And we do know what his game is about. It's about making us suffer and trying to prove that he's better than us."

"But how does he want it to end? Is he just going to torture us for a while and then disappear again or is he building up to something more… radical?"

Neither spoke for a moment as his words hung in the air. The only sounds came from the street outside and the gentle hum of the engine as they slowed for a stoplight.

Kate turned to face him, seeking out his eyes with her own. "We're going to get him, Castle," she said, her voice low yet resolute. "He's not better than us. He can't think of everything. He'll slip up sometime and we'll nail him. The four of us versus him? I'd put my money on us every time."

"But how many women are going to die and how much are we going to suffer before that happens?"

…

…

"Dad!" Alexis exclaimed, jumping up from her seat at the table in the precinct conference room as he and Kate walked in. The redhead threw her arms around her father's middle, hugging him tightly.

"When Ryan and Esposito showed up at my class I thought something had happened to you," she said, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face against his shoulder.

"No, I'm alright, honey. And I'm sorry we scared you," Castle told her, holding her close and running his hand over her hair like he used to do when she was little and woke up crying from a nightmare, only this time it was to comfort himself after the nightmare of believing she was in danger. He breathed a sigh of relief, finally able to hold his daughter and see for himself that she was okay, and silently offered prayers of thanks to every deity he could think of. Over the top of Alexis's head he gave Ryan and Esposito a nod and smile, thanking them as well.

Finally he pulled back so that he could see her face and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Did they tell you what happened?"

"Not really, they just said you found something at a crime scene that worried you and they came to get me as a precaution. They wouldn't tell me anything else."

"We thought it'd be best if you explained," Ryan told him quietly.

"Dad, what's going on?" Alexis stepped back and crossed her arms in front of her, fixing her sharp, intent gaze on him. "You're all trying to act like it's no big deal but I can tell that there's something going on."

He gently ushered her towards a chair and sat down beside her, buying time and trying to figure out the best way to explain. Kate followed, silently sinking into the seat at the head of the table. Castle glanced at her before turning sideways to face his daughter.

"…There is a certain criminal who seems to have taken a bit of an interest in me," he said slowly.

A steely glint appeared in Alexis's blue eyes, seeing right through the evasive mask of his words.

"Some killer has set his sights on you?" she asked, her voice a combination of fear and frustration. "And you thought this guy might try to come after me?"

"It was a possibility and we weren't going to take any chances."

She glanced from her father to the detectives and back again. "Do you think he still might try?"

"It's a possibility, yes, which is why you're going to go home, pack a bag and go stay with Grams in the Hamptons until this is over."

Alexis's voice was firm and decisive. "No."

"Alexis-" her father started but she cut him off, each syllable she spoke sharp and clear, demanding he pay attention.

"I'm not leaving unless you come too. I am _not_ going to go sit in the Hamptons with Gram again and wonder what the hell is going on back here and worry that I'm never going to see you again. I've done that once and I'm not going to do it again. If I'm going to worry and be scared about what might be happening to you I would much rather do that here in the same city that you're in."

Castle looked beyond Alexis to Kate, dark clouds casting shadows in his normally clear blue eyes. He was torn, she could tell, between his instinct to protect his daughter and his need help them stop Tyson. She gave him a small nod, hoping to convey that she would support whatever decision he made.

"Alexis…" he sighed, "I can't leave, honey. I… I need to be here."

"I know, Dad," she said softly, not surprised by his response. "So do I."

Father and daughter looked at each other for a moment, blue eyes on blue, as understanding and acceptance passed between them. Finally Castle nodded and leaned over to press a kiss against his daughter's forehead.

"Alexis," Kate said softly, drawing her attention. "I'm going to put a protective detail on you to make sure nothing happens. I know it's not fun to have someone following you around but this is important. And if anything at all makes you nervous or uncomfortable or just doesn't feel right, you go to them and tell them, okay?"

Alexis nodded but Kate noticed a flicker of unease in the girl's eyes. She waited a moment but when Alexis didn't say anything more she turned to Ryan and Esposito. "Guys, put Cipriani and Davis on the security detail and have them come in here."

"Yeah, we're on it." The two detectives stood and flashed quick grins at Alexis and Castle as they headed towards the door.

"Wait." Alexis's voice made them pause but her eyes were focused on Kate as she spoke. "I need to tell you something."

Kate saw the flicker of unease again but it was more distinct this time and didn't fade.

"Alexis?" Castle asked, his voice full of concern. "What is it?"

Her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt and she took a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I was getting coffee today between classes and there was this guy in the coffee shop and he started talking to me and he kinda really creeped me out. When I got to class and was away from him I thought I'd just overreacted, but now…. It could have been nothing but…I don't know…"

Ryan moved from where he had paused at the door, coming back to the table, a small wrinkle creasing his forehead. "What did he look like?"

"Um, he was wearing a hat so I couldn't see his hair but it was probably dark brown. He had a kinda scruffy beard and brown eyes." She paused and looked at her father. "He was probably a little shorter than you and maybe thirty, thirty-five years old."

A trickle of ice cold alarm slithered in Kate's stomach as she listened to Alexis's description. Behind her she heard Esposito moving back toward the table again and in the silence that filled the room she glanced up at her fellow detectives, trying to keep her face bare of emotion. They were both looking at her, the lines of their faces hardened and their eyes reflecting her apprehension.

Across the table Castle was staring at Alexis as she looked back at him in confusion and increasing worry at their reactions. Slowly his eyes moved from her to Kate, searching again for an explanation other than the one they were all thinking. He reached for Alexis's hand as Kate opened the folder on the table in front of her and pulled out a photo of Jerry Tyson. She glanced at Castle again before sliding it across the table.

"Was this the man, Alexis?"

Alexis's eyes widened in surprise and recognition and she nodded. "Yeah, that's him."

"Oh my god, Alexis," Castle said weakly, pulling her against him tightly.

"Shit," Esposito cursed and Ryan nodded in agreement, concern and anger shadowing his usually bright eyes.

"What is it?" Alexis asked, struggling to pull away from her father's grasp. "Who- Who is he?"

"His name is Jerry Tyson," Kate told her. "He…he's also known as the Triple Killer."

She could see the spark of recognition in Alexis's eyes.

"The one who strangled all those blonde women? The one who got away?" She turned to her father dismayed. "He's the one who's after you?"

He nodded and pulled her against his side again. Alexis went willingly, wrapping her arms around him as best she could from the awkward angle of their chairs. A torrent of emotions washed over Castle's face- fear, repulsion, anger, relief, confusion. After a moment he pulled back, settling his hands on Alexis's shoulders as he studied her face intently.

"Did he touch you? Did he do _anything_ to you?"

She shook her head. "No, he was just talking to me and he tried to pay for my coffee and bagel but I didn't let him."

"Alexis," Kate said, her voice serious but gentle. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened and what he said, in as much detail as you can remember. Are you okay to do that or do you need a minute or some water..?"

"No, I'm fine," Alexis told her, shaking her head and brushing her hair over her shoulder, strands of coppery silk catching the light as they fell down her back.

The room was quiet except for Alexis's voice as she recounted her run-in with Jerry Tyson at the coffee shop that morning. She needed no prompting, no questioning, just told the story clearly and concisely, leaving in the necessary details and leaving out all the unnecessary ones.

"Are you okay, honey?" Castle murmured softly to her as she finished.

She nodded, a bit distracted. "Yeah, I just… I need to use the restroom." She rose and headed for the door, Castle following right behind her, unwilling to let her out of his sight quite yet.

Alexis turned to him, her hand on the doorknob and a faintly amused look on her face. "I know where it is, Dad," she told him gently and slipped out of the room.

Kate picked up the photo of Tyson and slid it back into her folder before she stood and joined Castle at the door where he was still looking across the bullpen where Alexis had disappeared from view.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, resting her hand on his arm and angling her body to block it from Ryan and Esposito's eyes.

He rubbed a hand over his face and up through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I'm…" he trailed off and dropped the pretense. "No. No, I'm not okay!" he exclaimed, his voice rough with emotion. "He was there with Alexis! He talked to her! He knew who she was and he knew exactly where to find her! He- He-"

Her hand squeezed his arm gently, her thumb tracing small circles again, trying to sooth him like she had earlier in the morgue. "She's okay, Castle. She's fine. He didn't hurt her. He didn't do anything to her." She tried to get him to focus on her but his eyes were frantic and she could practically feel the waves of barely contained anxiety rolling off him.

Esposito's voice drew their attention back to the table where he was still seated beside Ryan, a pensive expression on his face. "He knew that we would find the note and that she would tell us what happened and that we would make sure she's protected. He had the opportunity to hurt her but he didn't and he knew he wasn't going to get another opportunity. She's not his target," he concluded firmly and Kate found herself agreeing with his rationality. If Tyson had any intention of harming Alexis he would have done so today, caught them all off guard before they had a chance to try to protect her.

But Castle wasn't in any mood to listen to rational arguments. He pulled his arm from Kate's grasp, pacing back and forth in the small area between the door and the table.

"He was there! He found her and he talked to her. A serial killer tracked down my daughter because of me! Because I figured out too much about him and ruined his plan. He's back and he's killing again because-"

Ryan jumped up from his seat and cut Castle off. "No! We failed to catch him. It was our job, our responsibility, not yours, Castle and he'd still be killing even if you hadn't figured out the plan."

Esposito stepped forward, his dark eyes flicking back and forth between his partner and Castle as he spoke, his voice commanding , cutting through the tension filled air. "Hey, we can't be blaming ourselves. That's not going to help us catch him. The only one to blame here is Tyson. He's the one who's killing and he's doing this to scare us and to make us feel guilty-"

"And he's doing a damn good job of it!" Castle slapped his hand against the tabletop and for a moment the only sound in the room was the rattling of the table on its one uneven leg.

"We can't let him get in our heads," Esposito warned when the rattle stopped.

Castle took a deep breath, his eyes seeking out Kate's where she still stood quietly beside the door.

"Esposito's right," she told him, moving to join them around the table again. "This is what he wants, to screw with us and let his mind games wreak havoc on our investigation and drive us crazy. I know it's hard but we can't let him get to us. We can't play into his hand."

After a long moment Castle slowly nodded and sunk into a chair at the table again. Kate retook her seat as well, tilting her head to meet his eyes and placing her hand on his arm again, no longer caring if Ryan and Esposito saw and wanted to make something of it. "Alexis is okay," she reassured him, "and we're going to make sure that nothing happens to her, I promise."

He nodded again then glanced out toward the bullpen. "Has she been in the bathroom too long?"

"I'll go check on her."

…

…

Kate pushed open the door of the women's room and immediately spotted Alexis. She was leaning against the wall next to the row of sinks, her hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt and her brilliant red hair falling across her face.

"Hey," she said quietly, walking over towards the young woman and propping her hip against one of the sinks.

Alexis looked up and greeted her with a small smile. "Hi."

Kate studied her for a moment before asking, "Are you sure you're okay? Because it's alright if you're not. Something like this can rattle you even though you know that nothing happened and physically you're okay."

"I know but I really am fine, I'm just…processing and making sure there's nothing I forgot to mention."

Kate nodded and they were both quiet for a moment. She could tell that Alexis had something she wanted to say but she knew it was best to wait until she was ready instead of trying to pry it out of her. So she waited and let the steady drip, drip, drip of a leaking faucet lull her own frayed nerves and quiet her heartbeat.

"Why did he do what he did? Why did he find me but not do anything to me?" Alexis finally asked, her blue eyes blazing with the need to understand.

Why indeed? They were the same questions she'd been asking herself over and over. Why did Jerry Tyson do any of the things he'd done? And what was he playing at this time? Was he killing these women and tracking down Alexis just to mess with them or did he have something much more sinister planned, as Castle had suggested.

Kate pushed off the sink and nodded at the door. "Come on, let's go somewhere else to talk."

She led Alexis to the Property Room and saw the girl smile as she looked around at the space she had helped organize. It was much less likely that someone would walk in and interrupt their conversation in here. She pulled out the computer chair for Alexis and perched herself on a table across from her.

"Did your dad tell you what happened when Tyson got away last time?"

Alexis shook her head. "No, he just said that he knocked out Detective Ryan and got away."

"Tyson made a deal with his cellmate and set it up so that he took the fall for all of Tyson's murders. He played us and he had us fooled but your dad figured it out. Tyson still got away but his plan was ruined because we knew that he was actually the Triple Killer."

She watched Alexis's look of surprise transform into one of contemplation as she thought through what she had just been told.

"So he blames my dad for ruining his plan?" she asked.

"It seems that way," Kate replied, nodding.

"And…and he wants revenge?" Alexis's brow furrowed as she tried to understand the motivation behind Tyson's actions.

"We…" Kate sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "We're not entirely sure what he wants, but that seems to be a part of it."

"But why did he just talk to me? Why didn't he try to… to do anything to me?" Alexis asked again, sounding somewhat bewildered now.

"Well, he has a very specific profile for the women he kills and fortunately you don't fit it," Kate said with a tight smile but she couldn't help thinking that the day could have ended much differently if Alexis's hair had been another color.

"I'm not blonde."

Kate nodded. It wasn't something she had ever considered before but she was suddenly extremely thankful that Alexis embraced her natural hair color. It was ludicrous and terrifying to think that something as seemingly trivial as the color of her hair may have saved her life.

"And I think he may have done it because he wants to torment your dad, make him suffer. He wants to punish him for ruining his plan and just knowing that he was that close to you is enough to do that. He wants us to wonder what he's up to and drive ourselves crazy trying to figure it out."

"Do you think he'll try to… to hurt him?" Alexis questioned hesitantly, her fingers worrying the hem of her shirt again, her fear compelling her to ask the question she didn't necessarily want to know the answer to.

"I… I don't know, Alexis," she said truthfully, angling her head to catch the girl's eye directly, "but I'm not going to let anything happen to your dad and Ryan and Esposito won't let anything happen to him either. He's one of us and we protect our own."

Alexis nodded and continued pulling at a thread. The seam had put up a good fight against her anxious fingers but with a soft snap it finally gave up the contest and started to unravel. Her hands stilled.

"You have to be careful, Detective Beckett," she said quietly but earnestly. "If this…if Tyson is trying to make my dad suffer, going after you and hurting you would be a sure way to accomplish that."

"Alexis-" Kate started to protest but Alexis interrupted her, an uncharacteristically fierce look on the redhead's pale face.

"You didn't see him when you got shot and when you were in the hospital and even after you got out. He…" She shook her head searching for the right words. "He wasn't good. He really, really cares about you, so you can't let anything happen to you, either."

_Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me… I love you. _His words replayed once again in the back of her mind and any protestation about Alexis's concern for her vanished.

"I…I'll be careful," she promised, swallowing the wave of emotion that still threatened to overwhelm her when she remembered.

Alexis bobbed her head once and smiled softly before looking away, her eyes roaming over the boxes lining the shelves of the room. Kate wondered if she had somehow sensed her emotional upheaval and was giving her a moment to regroup. She'd spent weeks thinking about his words and trying to sort out her own feelings, doubts and desires but she was still unsure how to proceed. Castle's declaration of love hadn't come as a complete surprise and it hadn't been unwelcome. In fact, the thought of it sent a ripple of warmth through her, like a sip of hot coffee on a cold morning. But it was daunting, too. When you loved someone you set yourself up for potentially getting your heart broken but being loved meant that you could potentially break that person's heart as well. And the last thing she wanted to be responsible for was breaking Castle's heart.

"So," Kate started, forcing her mind back to the present moment, "I noticed your books earlier. You're taking Criminology and Psychology and Art History, too?"

"Yeah," Alexis replied, smiling at the detective and the subject change. "Dad keeps telling me I'll have plenty of time to decide on a major once I actually get to college, but I've been looking at the course catalogue for Stanford and there are so many different things I'm interested in that I don't know how I'll ever narrow it down to just five classes a semester much less decide on a major." A small worried crease appeared between her eyebrows at the thought of having to make that decision. "So I thought that if I took some classes now and got an introduction to subjects I haven't had an opportunity to study yet, maybe it would help with the process when I do go to college." She shrugged her shoulders and continued speaking.

"I'm hopeless at painting and drawing and everything like that but Art History is really interesting and I haven't had a chance to really study it in depth."

"And the others?" Kate prompted her.

"I'm taking Criminology and Psychology because… I'm curious, I guess." She paused for a moment before launching into her explanation.

"You know, with my dad being 'The Master of the Macabre' and all that, murder and death have pretty much always been a part of my life, but it was always in a fictional, hypothetical way, like 'What happens if you put a head in the microwave?' or 'What's the best way to kill someone in their sleep?'."

She just smiled and shook her head at Kate's raised eyebrows.

"Then he started shadowing you and helping solve real crimes committed by real people and that all sort of became a part of my life too. I'm not saying that I blame him or that it was wrong or it's scarred me or messed with my mind in any way, it's just that it's made me think about things more. In his books the bad guy always gets caught and motives are clearly explained and everything is wrapped up neatly by the end, but I know that in real life that's not always the case. I just wonder sometimes, in the real world, what can make someone do such an awful thing to another person. So I guess I'm taking the classes to try to understand that better. Although," she added as an afterthought, "I wasn't expecting to have a situation in which I could actually apply what I'm learning present itself so readily."

Alexis looked up to find Kate studying her with a curious expression and an almost amused smile.

"What?"

"It's just funny," she said, shaking her head lightly, "because that's the reason I started reading murder-mystery novels. After my mother was killed I started taking Criminology courses but I also started reading detective stories. I was looking for answers, anywhere I could find them, to understand why and how someone could have done what they did." A shadow of sadness clouded her eyes for a brief moment before she continued.

"And you can't tell him this," she said quietly as she leaned forward and glanced at the door, "but your dad's books were always my favorites."

"Don't worry, Detective Beckett, your secret is safe with me." Alexis grinned at her with a twinkle in her clear blue eyes and she finally looked like her usual lighthearted self again.

"Come on," Kate said, sliding off the table, "He's probably wondering what's going on and I don't want him worrying you're not okay and barging into the women's room, thinking we're still in there."

…

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions or advice. <em>

_Hopefully the next chapter will cooperate and be ready quicker! _


	5. We're in for Nasty Weather

Kate sighed as she leaned back in the canvas chair and stretched her legs out in front of her. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, relishing the feel of the sun on her face and the light breeze blowing in off the water. She dug her feet into the sand, past the sun-warmed grains on the top to the cool, damp layer below and wiggled her toes, enjoying the grittiness of it.

It was peaceful here, the fresh air scented with saltwater and sand and only the sounds of waves crashing on the beach, the seagulls calling above and the wind whispering through the tall grasses somewhere behind her.

She took a deep breath and let her lungs expand to their limit before slowly letting it go. It was so easy here, without a care in the world and although she didn't actually know where here was she thought she'd like to stay here, maybe forever.

She opened her eyes again and looked out at the water, nothing but an endless sea of blue and gray and white-capped waves stretching to the horizon where ocean and sky bled into one. And on either side of her nothing but miles of sand and sea grass for as far as she could see. Above her the sky was blue, punctuated here and there with puffy, white clouds and the occasional soaring gull.

But as she listened the screeching calls of the seagulls started to sound different than they had a just a few moments earlier. They sounded human, almost as if they were shouting, "Daddy! Daddy!"

The sound washed over her sending a shot of ice cold dread straight to her stomach and she leapt out of the chair, stumbling over the sand. She spun around, looking left and right, up and down the beach until finally she spotted a dark shape at the edge of the water far down the shore.

Kate raced towards it, running as fast as she could in the soft sand. Her legs felt heavier with every step she took and her heart pounded. As she drew closer she could make out the shape of a man lying face down in the surf and two girls kneeling beside him. They looked up as she approached and Kate froze when she recognized the tear streaked faces of Roy Montgomery's daughters. They tugged at their father's jacket as the water rocked his lifeless body back and forth.

The waves were getting bigger and more powerful as the tide came in. The water crashed violently against the sand and roared as it rushed back out, dragging sand and rocks back with it and Kate realized that soon it would be strong enough to sweep away Montgomery's body and take his girls with him. She had to get them away from there.

Kate took a step towards the water and cried out in pain as something sharp stabbed into the bottom of her foot. There was something metal glinting in the sand and she dropped to her knees to dig it out. Her trembling fingers brushed away the damp sand and she recognized that it was Montgomery's badge, one sharp edge shiny with her blood.

"Kate," someone gasped breathlessly behind her. "Kate, help me. Please." She spun around and her chest clenched in terror. Alexis was stumbling across the sand, her hands grabbing at her neck where a green and white rope was cutting into her skin. "Help me," she whispered hoarsely through lips almost as blue as her eyes, "please."

"Oh my god, Alexis."

Kate ran to her and reached the girl just in time to catch her as she collapsed and her eyes fell shut. "No! No, no, no, Alexis, come on," she cried and reached for the intricate knot of rope at the back of Alexis's neck. Her hands trembled and her fingers tugged at the strands but the knot wouldn't come undone and her fingers against Alexis's neck felt the moment her heart stopped beating and her pulse ceased.

She kept pulling at the knot for several minutes after until the ends finally came apart in her hands and then sat there holding Alexis in her arms until she felt the cold spray of water on her skin. She looked up and saw that the waves had gotten closer and with a jolt she realized that Montgomery and his daughters were gone, pulled under in the icy grip of the sea. She couldn't leave Alexis here to meet the same fate. She had to find someplace safe for her.

Kate looked around but couldn't see anything but sand and water and grass, each stretching on for miles with no interruptions. There were no other people, no buildings, no signs of life. Even the seagulls had disappeared. She now saw the beach for what it really was: desolate, empty and sinister.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she carried Alexis to the highest point where the grass met the sand and gently set her there, resting her head on a tuft of grass and crossing her thin arms over her stomach. She looked so peaceful lying there, and so young, her red hair shining brilliantly around her pale face even as dark clouds rolled in and blocked the sun.

The wind was blowing harder now and it was getting colder. Kate shivered and looked around again, desperately hoping to see something she hadn't noticed before. Her gaze swept up and down the sand in despair when she suddenly caught sight of figures moving in the distance. A group of men were walking along the beach toward her, still far enough away that she couldn't distinguish their faces. She called out to them but the wind blew her words right back to her.

Kate watched as the two men at the front of the group stopped walking and spun around. Even from a distance she could tell that they were holding guns on the three other men, who had dropped to their knees with their hands behind their heads.

Instinct had her moving closer even as she was acutely aware that she was unarmed and probably stood little chance against the two gunmen. She approached cautiously from behind and was shocked when she got close enough the see the faces of the men on their knees. Ryan, Esposito and Castle were all watching her. She could see in their eyes all the hope and trust they had in her. They were depending on her to save them.

The two men with guns were dressed all in black including the ski masks covering their faces. The one of the right held a phone to his ear while keeping his gun trained on her partner's chest. He ended the call and spoke to the man beside him.

"He said she let them get involved in her fight and now they all know too much. Kill them."

"NO!" Kate screamed but the wind swallowed up her cry again. She tried to move but her feet had sunk into the sand and she fell. The shots rang out in quick succession. She counted them, six in total, as she trembled on her hands and knees in the sand. She tasted bile in the back of her throat and tears stung her eyes as horror ripped through her stomach and clenched like a vice around her heart.

The two men in black left quickly. They returned the way they came and didn't look back.

Kate staggered to her feet as quickly as her shaking limbs would allow and raced to where her friends and partner were sprawled on the sand. Ryan and Esposito were both looking at her but their eyes were glassy and unseeing and deep crimson blood pooled in the wounds on their chests.

Castle was lying motionless beside them with his eyes closed but when Kate pressed her trembling fingers to his neck his eyes flew opened and he gasped. Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth and from the holes in his chest.

"Kate," he rasped and his eyes slid shut again. She pressed her hands to the bullet holes and tried to hold his blood inside but it oozed out between and around her fingers and spread across his shirt.

"No, Castle, stay with me. Don't leave me, Rick, please, stay with me," she pleaded. Tears were falling down her face, dropping and mixing with the warm, slick blood under her hands.

His blue eyes fluttered open again and he weakly lifted his hand to touch her arm. "I love you, Kate," he whispered, "I love you."

A trickle of blood fell from the corner of his mouth and his arm went limp and dropped back to the sand as his eyes slid closed and his head rolled to the side.

"No, no, Rick, no, come on, don't, no." She was sobbing as she started chest compressions but they only made the blood pour out of him faster. It was soaking into the sand around him. She could feel it, warm and wet under her knees.

The wind was bitter cold and the roaring and crashing of the waves filled her ears, drowning out even the sounds of her own grief. Her head fell to Rick's shoulder and her tears soaked the bit of his shirt that wasn't already drenched in blood as she clung to him, shaking.

She knew the waves were threatening to overtake them but she didn't move, didn't look and thought maybe it would be best if she let herself get swept out to sea with all the people she loved but couldn't save.

A hand on her shoulder startled her and she looked up. Mike Royce was standing over her, smiling sadly.

"Come on, kid," he said, "Stand up. There's still work to be done."

He held out his hand and Kate took it numbly, letting him pull her to her feet. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper and handed it to her. "I wanted to give this to you in person."

She unfolded it with trembling fingers and read- _If only, If only, If only. _

The two words were repeated over and over, covering front and back of the paper. When she looked up, confused, Royce was already far down the beach, a tiny speck on the endless expanse of deserted sand. A sudden gust of wind tore the paper out of her hands and she flung an arm over her head, stretching to reach for it but pain, hot and sharp, cut through her and-

Kate's eyes flew open and she sat up, gasping as a stabbing pain shot through her side. The sweat soaked sheet fell to her waist and she sat frozen in place, gulping for air, eyes wide in the darkness. She was shaking and nauseous, her skin clammy and flushed. There was a tightness in her chest and throat and her eyes were stinging and watery.

The sheets had tangled around her feet and she kicked at them, trying to free herself from their grasp as she reached for the lamp on the bedside table and fumbled with the switch, blinking against the brightness when she finally found it. Her eyes traced over every inch of the room, lingering in the corners, the shadows and the darkness beyond the doorway.

"_It was a dream, just a dream, just a really, really bad dream,"_ she told herself, willing her heart to stop pounding and the knot of terror twisting her stomach to disappear. She'd had nightmares before but they had never been so vivid or felt so real. She could still feel the sand between her toes, the sharp pain in her foot and the warm, wet blood under her hands.

Kate glanced at the clock- 4:17 a.m. It was still dark but the sun would be rising soon and she knew there would be no more sleep for her this morning.

She eased out of bed and made her way to the kitchen, turning on ever y light she passed on the way. She filled a glass of water at the sink and took half of a prescription strength painkiller. Her abrupt awakening had pulled at the wound and although she hated taking the prescription, she knew it would take the edge of the soreness and make it easier to get through the rest of the day.

Her hand was still shaking as she set the empty glass on the counter next to the sink. It joined a collection of mugs, bowls and glasses already lined up there but they, like the pile of mail on the table and the overflowing hamper in the bathroom, were going to have to wait a while longer. She had no patience for mundane household chores right now.

Instead, she headed for the shower, turning the water on as hot as it would go, hoping to wash away the lingering effects of the dream. A pipe creaked loudly, sending her heart racing again and she shook her head at herself as she stepped under the stream of water.

Ten minutes later she emerged again and wiped the steam from the mirror, wincing as she caught sight of her reflection. Beneath the pinkness caused by the hot water, her skin still had a greyish, sickly tint and there were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. She'd tossed and turned last night, only getting a few hours of sleep before the dream woke her.

She hadn't had a decent night's sleep since Polina Bancroft's body was found. None of her team had. She could see it in the deepening hollows under their eyes and the delay in cracking a joke and forcing a smile.

She thought of Castle and the utter terror and revulsion that had been etched in the lines of his face yesterday and wondered if he had managed to get any sleep at all. In her mind she could see him triple-checking the alarm system and the lock on every door and window in the loft before spending the night anxiously keeping watch outside Alexis's room.

Kate shook her head hard, trying to force away the memory of Alexis's body laid out on the sand in her dream. It was still so vivid.

She went back to the bedroom and grabbed her phone off the nightstand, checking to make sure she hadn't missed a call from the security detail. There was nothing but she still felt the urge to call Castle and hear him tell her that they were alright.

A glance at the clock showed it was a few minutes before 5:00 and she pushed the urge aside. It was still much too early to call. In case he had managed to get to sleep, she didn't want to wake him now.

She went about her morning routine on autopilot, thinking only of getting to the precinct to check if anything new had come up.

It was light outside by the time she stepped back into the kitchen and popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and poured coffee and water into the coffeemaker. Not the best breakfast but it would do for now.

She glanced around while she waited for the bread to toast and the coffee to brew and the pile of mail on the dining room table caught her attention. There wasn't time to deal with it all now but she could at least make sure there wasn't anything important that she needed to take care of.

It was mostly junk, credit card offers and sales flyers, but at the bottom of the stack was a small, padded manila envelope. She picked it up curiously. It was lightweight but it didn't lay flat. There was something other than paper inside.

The return address sticker said it was from the New York Historical Conservation Association. She'd never heard of them and had no idea what they could be sending to her.

She walked back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife to slit open the envelope. Inside it was another envelope. This one was purple, a greeting card envelope. It was blank and the flap was tucked inside instead of sealed. For a brief second Kate remembered opening cards from her grandmother when she was a little girl. Frugal as any member of her generation, her grandmother had always left the envelope blank and unsealed so that it could be used again.

A peculiar feeling grew in her stomach as she un-tucked the flap and slid out the card inside. On the front of the card there was a simple picture of a sunny field of flowers beneath a clear blue sky. She flipped it open. The message inside said _Welcome Back! _And below that someone had added a hand written note- _Glad to see you're recovering and back on the job. Good luck! _

Kate stared down at the card in confusion. There was no signature and nothing else to explain who it was from. Goosebumps prickled at the back of her neck and a feeling of unease settled heavily in her stomach as she reached for the manila envelope again and turned it upside down. Something fell out. It hit the edge of the counter and dropped onto the floor.

Kate bent down to pick it up and it took a second for her brain to realize what she was holding in her hand. When she did, she dropped it again and stepped back, a gasp of shock frozen in her throat.

The toaster dinged and the coffeemaker gurgled but all she heard was the rush of blood in her ears.

Lying on her kitchen floor was a thin green and white rope.

…

…

An hour later she was at the precinct adding photos of the rope, envelopes and card to the murder board. Kate had personally delivered them to the crime lab, sealed in improvised evidence bags- Ziploc baggies from her kitchen cabinet.

She had stuck around at the lab long enough to watch the technician on duty test the rope. It came back positive for human DNA and epithelials but they would have to wait to see if there was a match. Still, she requested that it be made a priority. She needed to know if that rope had been used to strangle Polina Bancroft or if there was another victim out there somewhere waiting to be found.

She stepped back from the board and took a seat on the edge of her desk, staring at the pictures and writing covering the white surface. In addition to the photos of Polina and Hannah, they had set up a second smaller whiteboard with the names and photos of Jerry Tyson's six original victims and the two women Marcus Gates had killed on his behalf.

All in all, ten beautiful, blonde, young women smiled back at her from their photos. Ten women were dead and they were no closer to stopping Tyson from adding another to that count.

Her eyes flicked back up to the picture of the rope that had been lying on her kitchen floor just a short while ago and she wiped her hands on her thighs. She could still feel the rope in her fingers from the few seconds she'd held it before realizing what it was and even though she had washed her hands multiple times, they still felt dirty and tainted.

She was trying not to think about how that envelope had sat in her apartment, on her dining room table, for at least three days before she opened it.

A quick internet search for the New York Historical Conservation Association had told her that no organization with that name existed while the postmark on the outer envelope indicated that it had been mailed four days ago at the Canal Street post office. There wasn't much to go on there. She could send Ryan and Esposito to the post office to ask around and see if anyone remembered anything useful but she had a feeling it would probably be another dead end.

Her eyes flicked from the picture of the envelope to the picture of the rope again. It was ten inches long, laid out next to a ruler in the evidence photograph. Not enough to effectively strangle someone with. Judging by the length, it had probably been cut in half, whether because Tyson couldn't bear to part with his whole souvenir or because the other half hadn't arrived yet, she didn't know.

"Hey, what are you doin' here so early?"

She turned to see Esposito walking through the empty bullpen toward her.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied.

"Lanie got a call about a body." He stopped next to her desk and shrugged. "I was awake so I figured I might as well come in." He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her inquisitively. "So what's your excuse?"

She pointed to the photos she had just stuck on the board. "Tyson sent me a little gift."

"What?" Esposito's dark eyes glinted sharply as they darted from her to the picture of the green and white rope. In two long strides he reached the board and pulled it and the others down for a closer look.

"Shit, Beckett, he sent this to your apartment." He turned around to look at her, brow creased in concern.

"Who sent what to Beckett's apartment?" Ryan asked curiously as he joined them, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the back of his chair.

"Tyson sent Beckett a piece of the murder weapon."

Ryan's jacket fell off his chair and onto the floor but he didn't notice. He snatched the pictures from his partner's hands and flipped through them. When he glanced back up his blue eyes were wide.

"Glad to see you're recovering and back on the job. Good luck!" Ryan recited the note in the card. "Do you think this confirms that he's been watching you?"

Kate sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know. He could just be saying that to make us think he might be watching us or he might actually have a way of keeping tabs on us."

She slid off the desk and took the pictures back from Ryan. "Why don't you guys look into the post office? See if anyone remembers seeing him and how many packages he was sending or if he's been back in recently. I'll start looking into the possibility that he's somehow had eyes at the scenes or on us."

She watched the two partners head for the elevator, Ryan brushing off the jacket he'd retrieved from the floor and Esposito already on the phone with the Canal Street Postmaster, telling him to meet them at the post office as soon as he could. As the elevator doors slid closed behind them, the memory of their vacant, lifeless eyes and blood soaked bodies filled her mind. The images from her dream were still as clear as when she first woke up and she felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning vent she was standing under.

…

…

Two hours later when Castle walked in carrying a tray of coffees and a bag of bagels, the detectives were gathered around Ryan's desk watching the security footage he and Esposito had picked up from the post office. No one they had talked to had been able to say for certain that they had or hadn't seen someone resembling Tyson there recently so the investigation had moved on to the cameras.

Ryan had gotten lucky quickly. The camera covering the automated postage machine had captured a man mailing a small, manila envelope early in the day the morning after Polina Bancroft was murdered, the morning before her body was discovered.

He fit Tyson's body type and height and his baseball hat and beard matched Alexis's description but there was no clear shot of his face.

Castle set the coffees and bag on the desk and peered over Kate's shoulder at the image on the screen.

"Is that Tyson? What's he mailing?" he asked, leaning forward for a closer look and his chest pressed against Kate's shoulder for a moment before she slid away to grab the pictures of the rope, the card and the envelope that hadn't made it back up onto the murder board yet.

"He sent me this," she said and he straightened up in surprise, his eyes searching her face for a moment before he took the pictures from her. She watched him as he slowly flipped through them, his eyes hardening and his jaw tightening as he saw the rope and read the card. But when he reached the last one, the picture of the yellow, manila envelope with her address on it his face blanched.

"Castle?" she asked, concerned as she placed her hand on his arm. "What's the matter? What's wrong?"

"There… there was an envelope like that in my mail this morning. It had that same return address and I thought it was something to do with The Old Haunt and I, I just tossed it on the counter with the rest of the mail." She recognized the look of revulsion on his face and knew all too well what he was feeling right now, the tangle of emotions of realizing there was an item in your house that someone had used to take a life and you had just tossed it aside like any other piece of unimportant mail combined with the dawning recognition that Jerry Tyson knew where they lived.

Her hand was still resting on his arm and she gently squeezed it. "I'm going to send someone to pick it up, is that alright?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine." He took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes and she nodded at Esposito who already had his phone out to make the call.

Castle dropped into his chair beside her desk and she followed, sinking gingerly into her own seat. She watched him as he slowly flipped through the pictures again. He stopped and stared at the envelope with her name and address on it for a moment before looking back up at her.

"He's rubbing it in our faces. This is his way of saying 'I know where to find you but you have no idea where to find me.'"

Kate nodded her agreement and finally reached for the coffee Castle had brought. She sipped at the still hot liquid and turned her attention to the murder board, taking a moment to try and gather her thoughts.

How was it that they still had so little to go on? Their investigation had turned into a wild goose chase of a manhunt and they were no closer to their target than they had been three days ago. Every cop in the city was looking for Jerry Tyson but the APBs had turned up nothing. It was like he was a ghost, slinking through the city, felt but unseen or at least unrecognized as he hid in plain sight, blending in with the eight million other people around him.

They needed something, anything, to get them back in the game. She'd had enough of Tyson holding all the cards.

With a renewed sense of determination, Kate stood.

"Hey guys," she called out to get Ryan and Esposito's attention. "Get me everything you can about Tyson and I mean everything, not just the usual stuff we've already looked at. Get his foster care records, his school attendance reports, transcripts, any employment history, talk to his neighbors from before he got sent to prison… everything. And when you've done that see what else you can find out about his mother."

"Everything. Got it," Esposito replied with a salute.

Kate turned to Castle. "Let's go," she said and handed him his own cup of coffee. He looked like he could use the caffeine.

"Where are we going?" he asked, his tired eyes following her movements as she grabbed her keys and phone and double checked that her badge was still clipped at her hip.

"Up to Sing Sing. We need to talk to Marcus Gates."

…

…

The drive was quiet as they headed north, out of the city, the concrete jungle giving way to suburbs, open land and country clubs the further they traveled up river. As they turned onto Route 133 into Ossining, Kate glanced over at Castle in the passenger seat. He was leaning back against the headrest with his eyes closed but she could tell that he was awake.

As if he could feel her gaze on him, he turned to her and opened his eyes. They were bloodshot and accompanied by dark circles below them and a tired greyish tint to his skin.

"Did you manage to get any sleep last night?" Kate asked him as she turned her eyes back to the road. In her peripheral vision she could see him shrug and rub his forehead.

"Some, here and there. Maybe an hour or two total." He paused to stifle a yawn and grabbed his coffee from the cup holders between them. "I sat in the hallway outside Alexis's room for a while," he admitted without a trace of shame. "But she found me and made me go back downstairs. I ended up reading through Hannah Orlov's blog and articles." He sighed and shook his head sadly. "She was talented and fearless, like a young, female Jameson Rook. She'd been all over the world, usually traveling on her own, to places the State Department regularly issues travel advisories about and then she ends up getting murdered by a serial killer in her apartment in New York City."

Kate glanced at him again and saw that he was staring out the window, his shoulders slumped from a combination of exhaustion and sorrow that made something ache deep in her chest. She missed the light in his eyes, his easy smile, the comment he would have made about the mistake on the sign outside the store they had just passed. (Your going to love our prices!)

She was struck by the urge, the need, to say something but the words eluded her. If she hadn't been driving and he hadn't been clutching his coffee so tightly she might have reached for his hand but as it was she kept her hand on the wheel and her lips remained silent.

A few minutes later the sound of the gates clanking open as they were waved into the prison lot roused Castle from his thoughts. He shook his head as if to physically clear his mind and turned to her again.

"Did you hear anything about the Metro Card they found under her couch?"

"Um, yeah," she replied, a little surprised by his sudden question, her mind still searching for words to chase the shadows of grief out of his eyes. "It was Tyson's. They found his prints. It's one of those 7-Day Unlimited Ride cards purchased five days ago and since then he's been all over Manhattan and Brooklyn, different stations, different lines and with no clear pattern or reason as far as we can tell."

They stepped out of the car, the heat and humidity of the day particularly harsh after the cool, air conditioned car ride.

"So either he has some reason for traveling all over or he did it on purpose just so he could leave the card behind and give us another dead end to chase," Castle mused to himself as they crossed the sunbaked concrete of the parking lot and Kate took the opportunity to study her partner as his brow creased in contemplation.

His skin appeared even more sallow in the bright sunlight but there was a certain liveliness in his eyes again. She knew it was the anticipation of heading into the prison to talk to Gates. Not that she had high hopes for this interview, but it was always more satisfying to be moving and taking action, rather than sitting around waiting for something to happen or for someone to find something. They'd been doing too much of that lately.

…

…

A sly smile twisted the corner of Marcus Gates' mouth when the guard led him in to see them.

"Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle," he drawled, "What a surprise." But the look on his face told them otherwise. He had been expecting them.

Neither said anything as Gates was seated across from them. His eyes flicked over Castle briefly before his interested gaze settled on Kate.

"You came back for more," he said as he leered at her. "I told you I like that in a woman."

Kate kept her face blank as she stared back at him unflinchingly. Slowly she pulled out photos of Polina Bancroft and Hannah Orlov and set them on the table in front of Gates. They were autopsy photos taken in the morgue- pale skin and blonde hair against the background of a steel table, and with the white sheet pulled up to the collarbone, the only color came from the bands of bruised and reddened skin around their necks.

Gates studied them, first one then the other. When he looked up again his gray eyes were dancing with mirth.

"Last I heard you'd caught the Triple Killer. Don't tell me you got the wrong guy."

His voice was full of mocking concern as he settled back in his chair and clasped his hands on the table in front of him, the head of his snake tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of his prison jumpsuit.

For a moment Kate simply looked at him, watching the twitch at the corner of his mouth that told her he was clearly enjoying this.

"Have you had any contact with Jerry Tyson since you got sent back here?"

Gates shrugged lightly, the picture of nonchalance. "Maybe."

"When?" Kate asked. Her voice was soft but it was impossible to mistake her question for anything other than a demand.

He shrugged again. "'Bout a month ago."

"How did he contact you?"

"He wrote to me. Gave me a number and a time and date and told me to call."

"And what did you two talk about?"

Kate could feel her patience wearing thin. Gates' eyes shone with smug amusement as he took his time answering her questions, enjoying having the information she clearly wanted.

"Not much. He just had a question for me."

"What did he ask you?"

"He asked me about the place I used to work at… wanted to know if, hypothetically, someone wanted to get into Empire Prop House afterhours and undetected what the best way to do that would be."

"You told him how to break in."

Gates smirked as he shook his head. "It was all hypothetical," he insisted with an air of innocence.

"Sure it was," Kate said, pressing her lips together and nodding.

"So why did you help him, Marcus?" Castle asked, breaking his silence and staring calculatingly at Gates. "You miss your old cell mate? Maybe the new guy isn't as accommodating as Jerry was with you."

Gates' gray eyes narrowed as they moved from Kate to her partner and he lost his gloating look. "He knows where Paul lives," he admitted reluctantly. "Jerry said he was standing outside Paul's building when I talked to him and I wasn't going to wait to see if he was bluffing. He knows that I can't get to him if he harms Paul and what he wanted wasn't that big a deal. Besides, what does it really matter to me? I still got what I wanted from my deal with him so I figured, what the hell? Might as well help the guy out."

"You know," Kate said slowly, contemplating, "we know where Paul lives too."

"No," Gates protested, "you can't try and pull that crap with me. You signed the deal. You can't touch Paul."

"You got your foster brother immunity for helping you murder Linda Russo and Kim Foster," Kate reminded him, "but for anything else Paul's fair game."

Castle turned sideways to look at Kate and she could see the spark of a developing plan in his eyes. "You know," he said to her, "Marcus here did admit to aiding a serial killer. It would only be prudent of us to track down his known associates to see if he didn't send any of them along to help out his old buddy Tyson."

"Right," she agreed, already seeing where he was going with this idea. "We should put Paul McCardle at the top of that list since we know he doesn't seem to mind helping murderers. I bet we could even get a judge to sign a warrant to search his place. And this is a pretty big case so we could probably even get one by this afternoon, tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Either way he'll probably be at work when it comes through."

"True," Kate nodded thoughtfully, "so I'd have to send a few uniforms to bring him in for questioning."

"Wow," Castle winced theatrically. "Being picked up by the cops at work, maybe even being taken away in handcuffs. That is _really_ not good for your reputation."

Gates had been watching their exchange with growing annoyance and a deepening scowl, his cool steel eyes glared at them across the metal tabletop full of resentment and dislike.

"I get it," he interrupted sharply. "What do you want from me?"

Kate turned her attention back to him trying to conceal her satisfaction with the results of their provocation. "We need to know any place that Tyson ever mentioned to you. Where he said he'd go when he got out, places from his past he might have talked about…"

Gates shifted in his seat, the chains of his restraints clinking softly as they waited for him to answer.

"I don't remember him ever saying where he'd go when he got out and he didn't really tell me about his past very much. He didn't like to talk about himself."

"He just told you enough so that you could kill Linda Russo and Kim Foster and pretend to be the Triple Killer," Castle countered.

Gates stared at him apathetically for a moment before he acquiesced and told them, "He mentioned Atlantic City a couple of times… and he talked about a restaurant he worked at once, said there was a girl there, a waitress, who caught his eye."

"What was the place called?"

"Emilio's or something like that," he said and shrugged. "I don't know where it is."

…

…

"So we found that Emilio's place," Esposito said grabbing a printout off his desk and jumping up to intercept Castle and Beckett as they walked into the bullpen back at the 12th. "It's officially called Tavolo di Emilio. It's in Little Italy but in 2008 there was a pretty bad kitchen fire that shut it down."

"And apparently they'd been having some financial troubles so they decided not to reopen," Ryan chimed in as he stepped up beside his partner. "They fixed it up a bit and now they're trying to sell the place but no one wants it so it's been empty for the past few years."

Castle raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Kate. "Potentially making it a good place to squat," he suggested with a gleam of hope shining in his eyes.

Ryan cleared his throat and held up the file in his hands, giving them a wait-till-you-hear-this look. "When I talked to the owner I asked him about Jerry Tyson. Name didn't ring a bell so I faxed a picture and he definitely recognized him. Said Tyson worked for him as a dishwasher sometime between '95 and April of '97. He doesn't remember exactly when Tyson started but he remembers when he left because it was the same time that one of their waitresses disappeared."

"The waitress's name was Jacqueline Cantonello," Esposito told them. "We pulled the missing persons report her family filed but the investigation never really went anywhere. A young waitress and dishwasher from the same restaurant disappear at the same time? Everyone assumed they just ran off together. But take a look at her picture."

Esposito nodded to his partner and Ryan flipped the file in his hands around for them to see. Jacqueline Cantonello looked back at them, a wry smile twisting her lips. Her green eyes were rimmed with a bit too much black liner and mascara and her long blonde hair was tied in a thick braid hanging over her shoulder. She was young, barely old enough to buy a drink, but she looked ready to take on the world.

"Last anyone saw of her she was counting tips with the other waitresses after closing on a Saturday night. The restaurant's catering van disappeared that night too. It was returned a few nights later but not one ever saw or heard from Jacqueline Cantonello again. "

Kate took the file Ryan handed to her for a closer look and few seconds passed in silence before Castle spoke.

"Okay, no one's saying it but I know we're all thinking it, so I'm just going to say it. She's dead. Tyson killed her."

When no one argued he kept talking. "She could have been his first. A pretty blonde waitress who caught his attention and reminded him so much of his mother? He felt the attraction but the repulsion was there too and seeing her day after day, always reminded of the mother he lost and the mother he never really had in the first place." Castle had stepped over to the murder board while he spoke and he now pointed to the photo of Jerry Tyson's mother that had been added to the board while they were gone.

He turned back to face the detectives, his voice quiet as he continued. "Then finally one night he can't take it anymore, that conflict of emotions constantly eating at him makes him lose control. It's late, they're the only two left. He's finishing the dishes, she's wiping down the tables and when that last dish is clean he takes his apron off and remembers the rope he found on a delivery crate earlier. It's still in his pocket and when Jacqueline walks into the kitchen he realizes how easy it would be to make sure he never has to see her again."

Kate's eyes followed Castle as he slowly paced back and forth in front of the board, weaving his tale and against her better judgement she felt herself getting caught up in his story, the events unfolding in her mind as easily as if she was seeing it all before her.

"Maybe he kills her right there in the kitchen or he waits until she's leaving and kills her in the alley behind the restaurant. It's not hard, he barely thinks about it. All he has to do is step up behind her and wrap that green and white rope around her neck. She struggles at first but quickly weakens, finally goes still and he lets her fall to the ground. And as he stands there over her body, he feels powerful for the first time in his life, no longer a victim of circumstance but a man who can take action.

"He knows he has to get rid of her. There's too much to tie him to the crime. They both need to disappear. He looks around and thinks. The catering van is right there and he knows exactly where the spare key is. So he picks her up and lays her in the back of the van and he notices that despite the ugly red mark around her neck she looks almost peaceful lying there. He leans over to arrange her arms and legs to look more comfortable and he's reminded of how he used to do the same for his mother when he'd find her passed out from drugs and booze. And in that moment he feels satisfaction. No regret, no fear, just peace."

The typical sounds of the precinct filled the air around them but in their little corner of the bullpen it was silent. Castle sure knew how to tell a tale but Kate had to remind herself that his story was just that, a story.

She sighed and raked a hand through her hair. Facts. They needed to focus on facts.

"That could all very well be true, Castle. But it doesn't matter. We don't have any evidence that Jacqueline Cantonello is dead or that Jerry Tyson killed her. Even if we did it wouldn't really make a difference because we have plenty of evidence to get him for the eight murders we know about but we're not any closer to finding him. He's still out there and he's still at least two moves ahead of us."

"I know," he said gently. "I'm just trying to make a case for it being a good idea to check the place out."

Ryan grabbed a page from his desk, quickly scanning it as he moved back to the murder board. "There are at least three subway stations within a five minute walk from the restaurant and Tyson used his Metro Card twice at each of them in the past five days."

"He used that Metro Card at a lot of stations twice within in the last five days," Kate countered. She wasn't ready to dismiss the possible importance of the restaurant but the optimism on both Ryan's and Castle's faces worried her. Getting their hopes up now would only lead to greater frustration if it turned out to be yet another dead end. She glanced at Esposito, always more cautious with his optimism, and he gave a small shrug as if the say, "It's your call."

"Alright," she decided, "You guys head down there and take a look. Ask around to see if anyone's noticed anything and let me know what you find."

Ryan and Esposito nodded and headed for the elevator, eager to get away from their desks and out of the precinct for a while after spending most of the day in front of their computers.

"You don't seem to be expecting much from this," Castle observed as he watched her sink into the chair at her desk and sigh wearily.

"I'm not," she admitted, "but right now it's the only thing we have that even comes close to resembling a lead."

"Well, I don't think this very often," he said as he sank into his own seat, "but I hope you're wrong."

"Me too."

…

…

From where they sat, in the Crown Vic parked in a delivery bay between a Korean grocer and a tiny pharmacy, Castle and Beckett had a clear view of the front of Tavolo di Emilio. Ryan and Esposito, parked further down the street, had eyes on the side alley and back entrance. Earlier that afternoon when they searched the restaurant they had found a collection of empty food wrappers and newspapers dated within the past week, evidence that someone had been hanging out there recently. Now they were waiting for whoever it was to turn up again.

It wasn't late but there were few pedestrians out on the street. The heat and humidity of the day hadn't eased with the sunset and most people were likely at home by now, unwilling to venture far from their air conditioners, fans and refrigerators full of cold drinks.

In the seat beside her Castle's phone chimed, a light, trilling sound, and he smiled as he fished through his pocket for it. His smile grew as he read the message on the screen.

"That Alexis?" Kate asked though she knew his daughter was the only one who could get him to smile like that.

"Yeah," he said, his thumbs flying over the screen as he typed out a response. "She's bringing ice cream sandwiches down to the guys on the security detail."

"That's really sweet of her," Kate said, smiling for a moment too before her thoughts turned serious and she remembered why there was a security detail watching Alexis. "How's she doing with everything from yesterday?"

Castle sighed. "I don't know," he told her and his smile faded along with the light of his phone's screen. "She seemed okay when she left for class this morning but I couldn't tell if she was actually okay or if she was just putting on a brave face and pretending to be okay." He paused for a moment, creases appearing across his brow. "I always used to be able to tell what she was thinking. I knew when something was wrong before she even told me. But now it's getting harder and harder to tell what's going on inside her head and it takes a lot more prying to get her to tell me things."

Kate's eyes momentarily abandoned their surveillance of the street so that she could look at her partner.

"That's normal, Castle. She's growing up. She probably wants to try to work things out for herself now. But just because she doesn't confide in you as readily doesn't mean she doesn't still need you or trust you."

"I know," he sighed, "I just don't like feeling like my own daughter is a mystery to me."

"I thought you liked mysteries," she said lightly, teasing.

"In stories and murder investigations, yes, but when it comes to people the only mystery I like carries a gun and a badge and is incredibly sexy."

Kate felt the blush spreading across her face as she looked away and hoped the darkness in the car would be enough to cover it from Castle's detection.

"You know," she said determined to keep her voice light and her gaze focused on the Closed sign on the restaurant, "you should really tell Ryan how you feel before he goes through with his wedding. Or was it Esposito you were talking about?"

"You know who I meant."

It was too much. The shadowy darkness in the car, the warm, sultry air and the low tone of his voice that immediately brought to mind that night in Los Angeles when he had first called her a mystery and looked at her with eyes full of longing and reverence. It had been too much then too, and when her instincts had kicked in, flight had won because she knew resisting him was a fight she would ultimately lose. She had had to put a physical barrier between them when even the thought of Josh could hardly stop her from giving in to her desire. And still it hadn't been the door that had kept her from him. It was the few seconds it had taken her to finally get her head to shut up and let her do what her heart wanted.

But here in her car in New York just a few months later there was no place to flee to, Josh was gone and only the low console between the seats separated them. She could feel her heart pounding, dizzying almost, as she teetered on the edge of giving into something she had told herself was still forbidden.

She was aware of his eyes on her but she continued to stare resolutely ahead as silence filled the car. There was an unnatural quality to the heavy air, stagnant yet electrified, the calm before the storm if the dark clouds starting to roll in overhead were any indication.

"Looks like it's going to storm," Kate commented, breaking the somewhat tense silence that had settled between them. She felt a bead of sweat slip down her spine to the small of her back and wished the storm would hurry up and get there. A cool, heavy rain to clear the air was just what they needed.

Castle leaned forward to peer up at the sky." I heard them mention the possibility of some thunderstorms tonight when I had the news on this morning."

"Well it looks like they were right."

A beat of silence passed.

Castle shifted in his seat uncomfortably before he said halfheartedly, "Those clouds are pretty dark. It'll probably be a strong one."

"Mmm," Kate hummed in agreement.

"Maybe they'll bring some drier air. It's been so humid lately."

"Yeah, but that's summer in New York, hot and muggy."

"True," Castle said nodding as if she had made some profound statement. Kate nearly groaned.

The weather. They were talking about _the weather_. Awkwardly.

In all the time they'd spent together they had never had such uncomfortable silence and awkward, empty conversation.

A moment later she had reached to turn the radio on, breaking her own rule about music while on a stakeout, when Castle's voice made her pause.

"Remember when you came over and told me you remember what I said when you got shot and you promised we'd talk about it sometime?"

Slowly she let her hand drop away from the dial.

"Yeah, Castle, I remember. It was three days ago."

"Really? It feels like a lot longer." He fell silent seemingly genuinely surprised by how little time had passed. After a moment he turned expectant eyes to her. "Well…?"

Kate chanced a look at him, her eyebrows arching in disbelief. "You really want to have _that_ conversation right now?"

He shrugged and glanced around at the quiet, empty street. "We've got time to kill and nowhere to run to… Or I guess we could continue talking about the weather. It is a fascinating subject and it would finally give me an opportunity to work my knowledge of barometric pressure into a conversation."

"Castle," she sighed, exasperated but also hesitant.

"Look, Kate, if you're not ready for this we don't have to. I can wait. I can be patient."

His voice was serious but she couldn't stop the doubting scoff and challenging quirk of her brow she sent his way.

"I may not put the ability into practice very often," he defended, "but I can be patient. I waited… a while to say _those words_ to you and I would have waited longer if I wasn't terrified it might be the last chance I got to tell you. You're worth waiting for, Kate. So worth it, and I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you or rushing you to consider something you're not ready to."

"It's not that I'm not ready to consider it. I have considered it. It's just…. I just… I don't know…" She sighed, frustrated with her inability to express herself and let her head fall back against the headrest, her eyes slipping shut.

Several minutes passed before she whispered, "I'm no good at this, Castle and you're too…"

"Too what?" he asked when she didn't continue. "Too handsome? Too charming?" His voice changed, dropping the teasing tone. "Too immature? Too risky?..."

"Too important to me," Kate admitted, her voice soft and vulnerable, a little scared but not holding back.

A small, sad smile crossed her lips as she continued speaking. "You know what one of the last things Montgomery said to me was, before that night at the hangar? You and I had fought and I told you we were over," she explained, her voice full of regret as she set the scene. "When you left I went to the precinct. I told Montgomery that I wanted him to kick you out for good and he told me that he had let you stay around for so long because he thought you were good for me and because I wasn't having any fun until you came along."

She paused for a moment, trying to contain her thoughts before they went swirling off into the abyss of complicated emotions she was still battling with whenever she thought about her former Captain.

"What I'm trying to say is Montgomery was right. My life has been better since you've been around. And if we take that next step and, for whatever reason, it doesn't work out, there's no going back. I couldn't just be your partner and friend after that. We'd be done. And I'm probably being selfish but right now I'm not ready to risk that."

His voice was quiet, rough with emotion as he spoke. "I don't want to lose what we have either Kate, but what if the reward outweighs the risk? We're so great together already but we could be so much more."

"I don't doubt that, Castle, and I'm not doubting you. I have doubts about myself and I don't want to go into something so important with doubts. You deserve someone who's not going to hold anything back, someone who's going to put everything into your relationship and I can't be that person, not now. There are too many other things I need to deal with first."

"Kate…" He started to protest then sighed heavily. "I don't agree but I understand and I appreciate what you're saying."

A fork of lightning lit up the sky accompanied by a smattering of rain on the windshield. The drops of water falling through the open window felt soothing against her warm skin but the shower passed as quickly as it had arrived and soon the wet splotches on the car and the pavement around them evaporated as if they had never even been there.

After a moment Kate laughed softly, an airy almost amazed sound and Castle turned to her in surprise, a smile curving his lips at the unexpected noise from her.

"What?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I just never imagined we'd be having a conversation like this. I always imagined that when we got to this point we would just end up in bed without having a discussion first and then it would be too late to turn back."

"You've imagined us in bed together?" She could hear the smirk in his voice and continued to stare out the window, pointedly ignoring his comment and wondering how they had managed to go from an awkward discussion of the weather to this.

She didn't know what was making her be so unusually open with him. Maybe it was the dark, quiet intimacy of the car that made it easy to imagine that the rest of the world didn't exist. Or maybe it was because it was late and she was tired, tired of fighting and tired of there being so much left unsaid between them.

For the last twelve years, ever since the night she met Detective Raglan, her life hadn't been easy. Each morning took a conscious effort to force herself out of bed, because each day was another day without her mother, without answers or justice or closure. The years hadn't necessarily made it easier, but she had gotten used to it, grown accustom to carrying that weight around. But lately it had gotten heavier than ever with the added weights of Tyson's mind games, the shooting, Royce's death, Montgomery's death and the knowledge of his involvement in her mother's homicide hanging on her like leaden chains. It was everything that Dr. Persinette had mentioned and more and never before had she understood more clearly that there really were no victories in this world she lived in. There were only battles and finding the strength to face the next enemy in a long list of adversaries.

And she was getting tired, so tired of carrying it all around with her. So tired of fighting herself when it would be so easy to give in to her desire and just fall into his arms and accept the comfort and love and understanding she knew he was so willing to give. To let him help carry those weights for a while and ease their burden.

"Maybe we should just do that."

His voice pulled her back to the present moment. "Do what?"

"The just falling into bed together without discussing any of it first thing." Kate turned to him, quirking an eyebrow and expecting to find that familiar teasing grin on his face but his expression was serious.

"Talking about it makes us think about it too much," he explained, "and the more we think about it the more we'll just keep coming up with excuses not to take that leap even though it's what we both want."

"Castle," she started to say but then stopped, realizing she was unsure whether she wanted to admonish him or agree with him.

She was still deciding when the police radio crackled to life startling them both.

"_All units please be advised- possible sighting of wanted criminal Jerry Tyson reported, corner of East 4__th__ and Avenue B- please respond." _

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading and let me know what you think! All you have to do is click those pretty blue words below.<p>

I'm sure this week's episode is going to knock this story ever farther into AU territory but I hope you'll stick with me and I hope you all enjoy the episode. I know I'm looking forward to it.


	6. This Mortal Coil

_Hello? Is anyone still there? I'm soooo sorry it took eons to write and post this installment. I had some issues with this chapter and then a series of real life interruptions and distractions (interview process, new job, prolonged power outage) but I think I'm finally getting back into the writing groove again. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed. Reading your comments is the best motivation to keep working on this even when it's not coming easy. _

_It has been awhile but I still do not own Castle. Nothing's changed there. _

_And to refresh your memory, when we last left off the team was on a stakeout at an old restaurant they thought Jerry Tyson might be hiding out at and they got a call about a possible sighting of him nearby. _

* * *

><p>…<p>

Castle felt like he could hardly breathe. The thick, humid air that had simply been uncomfortable earlier now felt stifling and oppressive. He could feel it pressing against his skin and crowding his lungs as he gulped down one deep breath after another.

Tyson could be there, just a few blocks away, within their reach. But even as that thought crossed his mind he knew he'd be surprised if it were true. After everything Tyson had done to them so far that would be too easy. He was too smart for that, too careful.

The two minutes that had passed since the dispatcher's voice on the radio had alerted them to a possible sighting of Tyson were a blur of screeching tires, flashing lights, tensed up muscles and sharp turns that sent him sliding one way on the seat and then the other. The force of the last turn had pushed him against the door and he was working on righting himself when Kate slammed on the brakes and the car came to an abrupt halt.

Velocity sent him flying forward, straining against the seatbelt and he reached his arms out to brace himself on the dashboard. A wave of dizziness passed through him but the snap of Kate's door slamming shut behind her cleared his mind. She was already racing toward the building after Ryan and Esposito, rushing by the squad car that had arrived before them, its lights pulsing and spilling pools of blue and red over the sidewalk and street.

Castle stumbled out of the car and raced after the detectives as fast as his feet would carry him. He could hear the approaching sirens of other responders in the distance as he ran through the front door.

Kate was already at the top of the first flight of stairs when he started up and he could hear Ryan and Esposito's pounding footsteps echoing above. Drops of sweat beaded on his brow and trickled down his back. His heart beat a rapid rhythm in his chest and his lungs gasped for clear air in the suffocating stairwell but his mind was strangely blank.

He couldn't think about what he was running towards, didn't know what to expect. All he knew was that he had to follow Kate. Up one flight of stairs, another, three, four, through the door, down the hallway and into the apartment just in time to see the uniformed officer shaking his head in answer to Kate's unvoiced question. From his position he could only see a slice of the room over the officer's shoulder but in that slice he could see one pale foot with a bright red pedicure on the ground. They were too late.

Castle turned away and swiped at the perspiration on his forehead with the back of his hand, trying to catch his breath and rein in the emotions that were coursing through his bloodstream and making him want to scream at the unfairness of it all. Another innocent victim, a pawn in Jerry Tyson's game of torment.

He shut his eyes tightly and counted to five and when he opened them again his gaze landed on the door he had just come through. The security chain hung limp on the inside of the door, the bracket that had held it to the wall dangling from the end. Castle's eyes shifted to the hole in the wall beside the door where the bracket had been wrenched out as the door was forced open, his mind piecing the evidence together, filling in the story.

Something different had happened here. Something had forced Tyson to deviate from his usual effective and efficient plan. His other victims had let him in but not here. Somehow this girl had known him, known who he was. She had called 911 and Tyson had to force his way in.

And she had fought him. There had clearly been a struggle here. The small table beside the door was tipped on its side and the ceramic bowl he assumed had sat upon it was on the floor cracked in two, the loose change it had once held scattered across the floor. Shades of nickel, silver and copper shone, some more brightly than the others, in the hallway light and he wondered how they had gone unnoticed when he ran through that door.

The rushing of Castle's blood had quieted from a deafening roar to a distant hum and he tuned back into the conversation behind him. The officer, part of a patrol that had been just a few blocks north when the call came in, was explaining to Kate what they had found when they arrived at the apartment.

Castle had tuned in halfway through but from what he understood the neighbors had pointed them to this apartment saying they had heard shouts and several loud bangs and crashes. The officers had been clearing the rooms when they heard the ladder on the fire escape being pulled down and one of them had stayed with the victim and called for backup while the other gave pursuit.

"Have you got an update from him?" Kate asked and Castle turned away from the door to join them.

"He lost track of the suspect but he's got backup now and they're organizing a search."

"Alright," Kate sighed, "coordinate with the backup arriving downstairs and start a canvas of building residents. Get statements from anyone who saw or heard anything."

"Yes ma'am," the officer replied and gave Castle a slight nod as he walked by and disappeared out into the hallway.

Castle could hear Ryan and Esposito talking in low voices through the open doorway to the victim's bedroom and he watched Kate survey the room from her position at the door. He could only see her profile and the familiar lines of her cheekbone and jaw were partially obscured by the tendrils that had come undone from the knot at the back of her head, but he could see the dark shadow of remorse that briefly passed over her face. It was a feeling he recognized all too well now, on her face and his own from the few times he'd actually cared enough to look in a mirror lately.

Kate took a deep breath as she pulled blue latex gloves out of her pocket and tugged them on, falling back into her role as a hardnosed detective. Castle took a deep breath of his own and followed her into the bedroom, glancing at the doorframe as he passed through. The wood was splintered around the latch and a section of the trim around the jamb had been wrenched away from the wall. He looked to the other side and saw several dusty shoeprints on the door where it had been kicked open as Tyson forced his way in.

His victim had continued to fight him even when he had her cornered in her bedroom. The lamp on the bedside table had been knocked over and the deep purple comforter was tugged halfway off the bed. A clear glass vase with swirls of blue throughout lay shattered on the floor, the water and simple bouquet of daisies it once held had splashed and scattered beside the nightstand. The flowers were still fresh, their petals clean, bright white surrounding the sunny, yellow centers, and for a brief second Castle thought that if someone picked them up and got them back into some water they could be saved.

No amount of water could save the young woman lying on the floor just a few feet away from them though.

Her hands rested on her stomach, pale against the navy blue of her shirtdress, and another copy of _Heat Wave _lay nestled in the crook of her arm. The seam at the shoulder of her dress had ripped and she was only wearing one sandal. The other lay half hidden under the foot of the bed.

On her right temple, just under a brunette wave of the wig hurriedly placed over her own blonde waves, was a bloody gash from where she had hit her head or been hit by something in the struggle. It was a dark and ugly wound, but it was the now horribly familiar ring of crimson bruised skin around her neck that kept drawing Castle's eye.

No matter how many times he looked away to study the room himself or to watch Kate's methodical examination of the scene, his gaze kept trailing back to that splash of red on the neck of Tyson's latest victim.

She had known who Jerry Tyson was. She had tried to fight him, tried to save herself and she'd managed to call 911 before he got to her. They knew Tyson was ruthless but this was ruthlessness tinged with recklessness. He had to have known she knew who he was and called the police. Her phone was laying in pieces in the corner where he had seemingly thrown or kicked it away from her. And yet he had stuck around to kill her and pose her, took the risk when he could have gotten the hell out of here at the first hint that she knew. It was chilling to think Tyson had put racking up another victim over concern for himself.

The windows in the bedroom were open, the light, gauzy curtains fluttering in the wind that had started to blow and they could hear the sounds of cops and emergency responders issuing orders and relying information over their walkies carrying up from the street below.

A particularly strong gust sent the curtains billowing and a flutter of fabric beyond the open, damaged doorway caught Castle's attention. He took a step closer to the door before he realized it was just a dishtowel drying on the back of a wooden chair out in the kitchen.

He was about to turn back to watching Kate when a picture on the refrigerator across the kitchen table drew his attention. He was too far away to really see it clearly but there was something familiar about the man in the picture standing with his arm wrapped around the shoulder of the blonde woman next to him.

He moved out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen, his heart sinking with every step he took as the picture came into focus. He recognized that man. He had smiled at him and Kate over a box of evidence in the lobby of Polina Bancroft's building and he had handed Kate the Metro Card in Hannah Orlov's living room. It was the CSU tech…Bradford? Wasn't that what Kate had said his name was? It felt like it had been months since that night.

The happy, vivacious blonde in the photo was practically unrecognizable as the young woman on the floor in the bedroom, but in the picture her resemblance to Bradford was unmistakable. They had to be related, brother and sister, maybe even twins. They had the same golden waves, the same shining gray eyes and the same broad smile. Their dimples were on opposite sides though, Castle noticed, like mirror images of each other.

Ignoring the fact that he wasn't wearing gloves, he slid the picture out from under the magnet holding it to the front of the refrigerator and turned back for the bedroom, grasping the photo in numb, trembling fingers.

"Kate…" he called out softly at first and then again with growing urgency, "Kate!"

She quickly appeared in the doorway, her brow creased in concern. "Castle? What is it?"

In a few long strides he crossed the apartment back to her. "It's Bradford," he said as he held the picture out for her to see. Her eyes widened in surprise and her lips parted for a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, god," she whispered and lifted horrified green eyes to meet his.

"What is it?" Ryan asked as he approached with Esposito following a step behind him, both trying to peer over Kate's shoulder to see what she was holding. "What'd you find?"

"She's Danny Bradford's sister," Kate said as she turned to her fellow detectives.

"Bradford? That CSU guy?"

"Cassidy Bradford," Ryan whispered, closing his eyes and shaking his head as the realization set in. "I didn't even make the connection."

"Me neither," Esposito said and frowned as his eyes flicked sideways to the body of the young woman.

"Hey! You can't-" a loud voice said suddenly in the hallway outside the apartment. It was followed by another voice, loud but thick with emotion and strain. "No, no, let me go! Let go!"

The four stepped out of the bedroom to see Danny Bradford struggling with an officer almost twice his size at the door of the apartment. The officer had his hands wrapped around Bradford's arm, stopping him from rushing in. Bradford's face was pale and drenched in sweat, his eyes wide in terror and panic.

With surprising strength he managed to wrench his arm out of the officer's grasp and he rushed in, barreling by Ryan and Esposito when they reached out to stop him. He ran into the bedroom and dropped to his knees beside his sister. "No! No! Cassidy! Cassie, no," he moaned. His hands reached out for her as tears started streaming from his eyes but even in his grief he remembered his training and protocols. He didn't touch her. His hands simply hovered over her like a healer sensing a body's energy as he shuddered with the force of his anguish.

Castle could feel the stinging burn of tears threatening his own eyes and had to turn away. He could feel Kate looking at him, her gaze full of undeserved concern and tenderness as he staggered backwards out of the room, his heart in his throat as a wave of dizziness and nausea passed over him. He was burning up and it felt like the last gust of wind had sucked all the air out of the apartment. He needed to breathe, he needed air. He needed to sit down somewhere that wasn't part of a crime scene.

He needed to get out, get away from the sounds of grief and the funereal air of the suddenly overcrowded apartment. He didn't hear Kate call his name as his shaking legs carried him out of the apartment and back toward the stairs. All he could hear was the harsh voice in his head whispering, "If you had been smarter, if you had been quicker, if you had been _better_…"

…

…

Kate found him outside a few minutes later, around the corner of the building, sitting on the ground with his back against the rough bricks. His forearms rested on his bent knees and he stared unseeingly at the smudge of faded graffiti on the wall across the alley. He didn't move or acknowledge her and from her angle above him she could see the glimmer of a tear track running down his right cheek. She didn't say anything, just slid down the wall until she was sitting right next to him, her arm pressed tightly against his.

A minute passed in silence before she let her head fall gently against his shoulder. After a moment she felt his cheek, warm against the top of her head as he leaned into her, both giving and seeking comfort with their simple gestures.

Thunder crashed through the dark clouds above them accompanied by brilliant forks of lightning, threatening to let loose the rain at any moment. She couldn't tell how long they sat there like that, numb to the violence of nature above them, thinking only of the violence of a single man.

When fat, heavy raindrops started to fall around them, Kate laced her fingers with Castle's and stood, pulling him up with her. Her eyes sought his and she could see that the overwhelming panic had subsided but it had been replaced by a deep sorrow that made her heart ache for him.

"You should call a cab and go home. You don't have to go back in there," she told him gently but he shook his head.

"No, I'm fine and I'm staying," he said adamantly. "This girl, Cassidy, she knew who he was and she tried to fight and she deserves to have as many people here to keep fighting for her as can be here and I know I'm just a writer-"

"You're not just a writer," Kate cut in. "You're my partner and she's lucky to have you here to fight for her."

Somehow she had forgotten she was still holding his hand until he squeezed hers and smiled at her, a warm, grateful smile that showed how much he appreciated her words. She squeezed back and tilted her head toward the front of the building, silently asking if he was ready to go back in. He nodded and squeezed her hand once more before reluctantly letting go and following her back around to the front entrance.

…

…

When they walked into the apartment again they found that Lanie had arrived and was in the bedroom examining Cassidy Bradford's body while three CSU technicians worked on processing the scene. They were quiet, working as silently as possible in deference to their colleague and his sister, tiptoeing when they walked and cringing when the sound of their camera shutters broke through the hushed apartment.

Ryan and Esposito were sitting with Danny at the kitchen table. Danny was still upset but he had calmed down and was answering their questions in a low, flat voice, his puffy, red-rimmed eyes staring into the glass of water cradled in his hands. The look on his face was one Kate was familiar with. She had seen it often in her years on the job and although it varied from person to person, there was always a similar shadow of despair in the eyes accompanied by devastation and panic as their world spiraled out of control and shattered.

Esposito rose from his chair as they approached and Kate took the proffered seat. Danny looked up at her as she sat and for a moment looked like he was about to be overcome by grief again. He managed to hold it together though and returned Kate's small, sad smile.

"I'm so sorry, Danny," she told him softly.

"I tried…I warned her…I was at those other scenes, saw the other girls and they all reminded me of her so I warned her, I told her everything we know, I showed her the pictures, the sketches, told her how he works, but it wasn't enough and she's…she's still…"

He took a deep, gulping breath to steady himself. "I was worried but I never thought he would actually pick her. I thought I was overreacting and there are so many people… Out of everyone in this city…why did he pick her? Was it because of me?" he asked, his voice rising with panic. "Because he knows I'm CSU and working to catch him?"

Kate paused for a moment to take a deep breath before answering him. "I don't know, Danny, but whatever his reason was this is _not_ your fault." Her voice was firm, steady and she looked him straight in the eye, hoping he would really hear and believe what she was saying. "You tried to protect her, you did everything you could."

Danny looked at her through watery eyes and nodded but she wasn't sure her words had actually gotten through to him.

"What am I supposed to tell our mom?" he asked in a strangled voice. "She raised me and Cassie on her own and she was terrified when we both decided to move to New York. She made us promise that we would look out for each other. We were supposed to take care of each other."

His voice broke and tears started silently sliding down his pale face again. His gray eyes bore into hers searching for something she couldn't identify but knew she couldn't give him. Answers? Faith? Courage? Reassurance?

She couldn't give him any of those things but she could give him justice, for his sister and for the other victims he had met at the crime scenes, and maybe eventually that would give him some closure.

All she had to do was catch Jerry Tyson.

Except they had no leads, no trail to follow, no clues, nothing.

And Cassidy Bradford was Tyson's third victim of this round.

Tyson had earned his nickname, The Triple Killer, 3XK, by killing three women and then disappearing. Was this it? Had they missed their chance? Failed once again to catch him, let him slip away again?

But that was his old game and in this new game he was forcing them all to play along in did the number of women he killed really matter to him or mean anything to him anymore?

It was all about them now, Castle and her and the boys and making them suffer. If he disappeared right now there was no doubt it would haunt them and torment them but she couldn't help thinking that it would also be rather anticlimactic. No, there was something else going on, something Tyson was building up to and Cassidy Bradford was a way to keep them occupied and keep them on edge until they got to whatever that was.

She looked at her team now and it was clear that it was already haunting them, their nerves frazzled and on edge. Esposito was standing beside her, silent and motionless but muscles tensed ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Ryan's knee wouldn't stop bouncing, an anxious, subconscious movement that was lightly rattling the kitchen table, but when she tried to give him a look to tell him to stop she noticed that his eyes were roaming all over the room never settling on one spot for long. And Castle, he was looking at her but she could tell he wasn't seeing her. His gaze was distant, his jaw clenched and his hands in tight fists at his sides.

A door slammed somewhere down the hall outside the apartment and she jumped, startled by the sudden loud noise, her hand reflexively going for her weapon, and she realized she wasn't handling this any better than they were. She took a deep breath trying to calm her pounding heart and wondered how much more of this they were going to be able to take.

…

…

When they stepped outside a half hour later the sidewalk and street were wet with rain but the storm had passed. The air outside was cooler but the precipitation had only added to the oppressive humidity draped over the city.

They waited quietly as Lanie wheeled Cassidy Bradford's body out of the building and loaded the gurney into the back of the ME van. Danny had been standing stoically by the cluster of police vehicles but when she closed the back doors of the van his face crumbled and his tears started again. Lanie peeled off her gloves and stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a brief hug and whispering her condolences before ushering him to a waiting squad car and directing the officer to take him home.

They watched the car in silence until it disappeared around the corner and then agreed to call it a night and regroup and continue tomorrow morning. Esposito stepped away for a quick word with Lanie and then he and Ryan departed and Kate followed with Castle a few moments later.

He offered to get a cab so that she could go directly home but she refused. She needed this right now, the normality of driving, navigating the city streets and sitting in the car with Castle beside her.

When she pulled to a stop outside of the loft, he made no move to get out and for that she was thankful. She wasn't quite ready for him to go yet, not quite ready to be alone. She turned the key, killing the engine and let the quiet darkness of the car surround them once again. Her eyes, dry with exhaustion, stung as they slipped shut and she leaned her head back against the headrest. She was beyond tired but the tension radiating from her neck down to her shoulders, arms and back and coiling in her stomach made sleep tonight seem like an impossibility. And her mind was far from quiet as well.

They'd been close tonight, closer than they had been at any point so far, and still Jerry Tyson had escaped, slipped away and disappeared.

And Danny. Before tonight she had never seen him without a smile and a friendly greeting on his lips but now she couldn't get the image of his pale, tearstained face and the sound of his grief filled cries out of her mind.

She slowly opened her eyes again and turned to find Castle watching her. His face was pale, his eyelids drooping, his head slumped back against the headrest like he no longer had the strength to support it, and Kate remembered that he was running on just as little if not less sleep than she was. It wasn't just tiredness though. There was an air about him that was…heavy, encumbered, like he was dragging around weights he wasn't used to.

And she couldn't help feeling responsible for that.

"I'm sorry, Castle."

He squinted at her, confusion evident on his face. "Sorry for what?"

"This was never supposed to be your burden to bear."

His brow furrowed more, still not understanding.

"The burden of another person's death, a stranger's death," she tried to explain, searching her weary mind for the right words. "I know. I've seen it on your face the last few days. You're beating yourself up even though you know it wasn't your fault."

She held up a hand when he started to speak and was grateful when he closed his mouth and let her continue.

"In this job we speak for the dead. It's our duty to find justice for them and until we do we carry their death around with us. You hear it a lot from retired homicide cops, the unsolved cases they've carried around with them for years. I don't think it's a weight that ever goes away. And when it comes to serial killers and multiples that weight increases tenfold with all the 'what if…'s and 'if only…'s.

"You go over it again and again wondering what you could have done differently, how you could have been better, how the scene could have played out if only you had done this or that instead. That burden feels like failure and it was never supposed to be yours. You said it yourself, you're a writer. You were supposed to observe, see how we do things and write about it. But I was selfish. You were helpful and I liked having you around and I let you get involved."

In her mind she could hear the gunman from her dream echoing her words, '_She let them get involved… they know too much…', _or maybe she had echoed his. The dream had been at the back of her mind all day, hovering just beyond the edge of her consciousness, but in that moment it came back to the forefront, along with the panicky acceleration of her heartbeat as she realized just how much Castle had been exposed to because of her, how much darkness and evil had crept into his life since he met her.

"I ignored the risks. I let you become part of the team, become my partner. I considered the physical dangers but I never thought of the psychological toll and-"

"Wait," he interrupted, suddenly sitting up straight and nearly hitting his head against the roof of the car, his eyes bright and alert, exhaustion momentarily gone. "Are you kicking me out? Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"What?" she asked, startled, "No. I…I couldn't. Not now."

He sighed and leaned heavily against his seat again, closing his eyes for a moment before turning to look at her again, his face serious.

"Look, Kate, this may not have been the original plan but I'm in this now and I'm not going anywhere. And, you know, it's not like I was completely unprepared. I watched you. I saw what that burden could do and I had opportunities to walk away, but I chose to stay and to accept whatever came along with that decision. There's nothing you need to be apologizing for, Kate."

"But, Castle, still-"

"No, Kate, I don't want to hear it." His voice was sharper than she had ever heard it before and that in itself was enough to make her drop it. There was no point in arguing about it now. It was late and it wouldn't change anything.

Castle seemed to be thinking the same thing. He sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his tired face. "It's no one's fault. It just is what it is."

They sat in silence for several moments watching the few cars and taxis pass by them and continue on their late night journeys. Finally Castle roused himself and reached to open the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said and Kate glanced at the clock on the dashboard, noting the hour.

"Technically it'll be later today," she told him.

"Well, then, I guess I'll see you later." He gave her a soft smile and climbed out of the car but before he shut the door he ducked his head back in looking uneasy again.

"Will you text me when you get home… just so that I know?"

She nodded. "Sure… Goodnight, Castle."

"'Night, Kate."

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading! Leave a review and let me know what you think or just let me know that you're still out there and reading. <em>

_I make no promises but I sincerely hope it doesn't take me so long to finish the next chapter. I know pretty much exactly how this story will play out it's just the actual writing that's a challenge sometimes._


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